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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160364">The Stars Shall Guide Me Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalAgape/pseuds/EternalAgape'>EternalAgape</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A major character is already dead but interacts with living people as a spirit, Attempted Murder, But just know Vicchan is alive and the Goodest Boy, Don’t copy to another site, Happy Ending, M/M, Makkachin is a girl, Plot driven with a side of wholesome romance, Supernatural Elements, Temporary Character Death, Vaguely inspired by the Yugioh Millennium Items, Vicchan lives but is not mentioned, lowkey murder mystery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:15:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>65,434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalAgape/pseuds/EternalAgape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eve of becoming a four-time World Champion, Viktor Nikiforov is murdered.  Two years later, Yuuri Katsuki finds himself having periods of memory loss after being gifted a necklace for his birthday.  And what’s this about hearing voices in his head?</p><p>Or: Yuuri Katsuki finds himself sharing a body with Viktor Nikiforov.  The question is, why?  And what can he do to help the spirit of his dead idol?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is complete but going through its final edits (and tbh, I might change the title.  I like this title, but I'm not in love with it...we'll see!).  Have no fear, this story is guaranteed not to be abandoned!  It just might take a few days between posts as I read them through.</p><p>As with all of my YOI fics, these programs ARE accurate…just not for the +3/-3 system that was in place through June 2018.  So I don’t screw myself up with relearning the old scoring system, I’ve used the +5/-5 (post-2018) system to make and score all of Yuuri’s programs.  If anyone wants to nerd with me over fake protocols, I’ve got a whole fake season’s worth for our Yuuri!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was waiting at the center of the ice when it hit him: the lights were blindingly bright, his music was about to start, and there were thousands of people watching him.</p>
<p><em>There were thousands of people watching him</em>.</p>
<p>He didn’t know how he had managed to complete his short program and land himself in third yesterday.  Instead of the calm that usually washed over him during solitary practices on the ice in Detroit, he could feel his breath quickening and his heart beginning to pound against his chest as his anxiety grew and grew.  His costume felt too tight, too suffocating – it was pressing the necklace Phichit had given him for his birthday uncomfortably against his skin, and he was sure it would leave an outline when he unzipped his costume later.</p>
<p>Everything was too much and too fast.  The first notes of piano began, and he had approximately four seconds before he needed to start moving.</p>
<p>Three.</p>
<p>Two.</p>
<p>One.</p>
<p>And then it was over.</p>
<p>Sweat dripped down his face, his chest was heaving with exertion as he found himself in his ending pose.  He couldn’t feel any indications that he had fallen at all – no damp spots on his costume, no aches in his body.</p>
<p>He had…done it?  He had…somehow…skated his program?</p>
<p>The thousands of people were no longer watching; now, they were cheering, clapping, whistling for him, chanting “Yuu-ri!  Yuu-ri!” as he tried to catch his breath.  He raised his arms as he robotically took his bows, then skated quickly to the exit.  He picked up a few toys that had been tossed to him along the way, and then he was in his coach’s arms.</p>
<p>“Yuuri!  Yuuri, that was <em>incredible!</em>” Celestino exclaimed, and he was left wondering <em>what</em> had been so incredible.</p>
<p>He didn’t remember any of it.</p>
<p>If Celestino said he had skated his program well, Yuuri supposed, then he must have.  He must have just…blocked it out somehow, gotten into The Zone or The Flow or whatever words his sports psychologist would have used.</p>
<p>They were ushered into the kiss and cry, and Yuuri tucked his jacket around him while he waited for the scores.  He had <em>no </em>idea how he had done – he couldn’t remember skating, after all.</p>
<p>“I can’t wait to see this one,” Celestino said enthusiastically.  “It’s gonna be big.  Get ready, Yuuri.”</p>
<p>Luckily, Yuuri didn’t black out when his score was announced (even from shock), especially when the announcer said, “…he is currently in first place.”</p>
<p>He was close to fainting as Celestino threw an arm around his shoulders, shaking him as he cheered.  “Yuuri!  That’s a new personal best by <em>twenty points!</em>  And there’s only two skaters left, so you’re guaranteed to be on the podium!”</p>
<p>He felt like he should have been jumping for joy or dancing or- well, <em>anything </em>more than the numb shock he was feeling.</p>
<p>He’d skated?  He’d skated well enough to keep him on the national podium?</p>
<p>And then, sixteen minutes and two skaters later-</p>
<p>He’d skated well enough for a silver medal?</p>
<p>And even later yet-</p>
<p>He’d skated well enough for a B-list skater to get selected for Four Continents and Worlds?</p>
<p>And all through those moments, he could have sworn he heard a voice – a gentle echo, warm and proud in his mind.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part 1, "For Yuuri" - Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri is fairly certain he knows who the voice in his head is, but it's simply not possible.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I knew you could do it, Yuuri!” Phichit cheered through the phone.  “That’s why I gave you that necklace – because you’re a star!  And look at you.  You’ve proved it to everyone now!  A <em>small bronze</em> at the <em>World Championships</em>?  I’m roommates with a <em>famous, world-class skater</em>!”</p>
<p>Yuuri hummed noncommittally in response.  He certainly didn’t <em>feel</em> like world-class skater <em>or </em>a star – especially when he couldn’t remember any of his programs since the short at Nationals.</p>
<p>He had done well at Four Continents, managing to take home the bronze.  His programs had earned even higher scores at Worlds, with his short program coming in fifth and his free coming in third.  Overall, he’d ranked fourth – he’d somehow gone from not medaling at all to earning <em>international medals</em> in one season.</p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t have any explanation for what had occurred.  He’d thought that not remembering his free program at Nationals was a result of stress, but then he’d gone and blacked out again for both programs at Four Continents.  He’d watched his programs back on YouTube when he returned to Detroit to figure out what had happened, but it didn’t show him anything he didn’t already know.  It was certainly <em>him</em> skating, and he didn’t look glazed over or…or <em>anything</em>.  He looked <em>confident</em>, strangely enough, and there was a fluidity to his skating and his jumps that he didn’t remember seeing in his past competitions.</p>
<p>Maybe he really <em>did</em> just find The Zone™ and manage to finally relax during competitions.  When he’d mentioned not remembering it well to Celestino, he’d just laughed and agreed that things did seem to happen so quickly at competitions.</p>
<p>Yuuri was fairly certain that there was a difference between running his routine from muscle memory and blacking out entirely, though.</p>
<p>Luckily, he had months to figure it out.  The season was over, and while he had been approached to participate in a series of ice shows, they would only be for a few weeks.  He’d have plenty of time to figure out how and why he was blacking out when he competed – and whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri was flooded with relief when the plane finally touched down in Michigan.  He still had to finish out the rest of the semester, and finals were certain to cause him stress, but at least he’d be coming off the high of a successful skating season.</p>
<p>Phichit was waiting for them at the gate brandishing a sign stating, “FIGURE SKATING GENIUS YUURI KATSUKI” and then, in smaller letters underneath, “and Coach Ciao Ciao.”  Yuuri and Celestino both got chuckles out of that, and when they’d finally left the passengers-only area, Phichit promptly tackled Yuuri.</p>
<p>“I’m so proud of you, Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri</em>.</p>
<p>Yuuri felt like he was hearing an echo, but with the busy airport, he just shook his head lightly and smiled.  “Thanks, Phichit.”</p>
<p>“Let’s get you both home, and then-”  Phichit paused, casting a surreptitious look at their coach.  More quietly, he said, “We’ll order some Chinese food for dinner, how’s that sound?”</p>
<p>Yuuri chuckled, drawing Celestino’s curious gaze.  “That sounds perfect.”</p>
<p>A normal dinner with Phichit was exactly what Yuuri needed after the whirlwind week he’d had.  Even longer than that, though, he’d felt distinctly <em>off</em> – ever since the free at Nationals.</p>
<p>He was probably fine, though, he mused as he devoured a quart of sweet and sour chicken.  It was probably stress or…or just a new way of approaching competitions.  Maybe it was some kind of weird seizure.  Either way, he would be fine – right?</p>
<p>Being back in his room was a further relief.  It was just the way he’d left it the week before: his schoolwork was still strewn all over his desk, half-done, and the calendar on the wall showed all of his deadlines and the extensions he’d (thankfully) been granted.  His bed was still a mess, and his posters of Viktor Nikiforov still looked down upon him from the walls.</p>
<p>The room was silent – just the way Yuuri liked it.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri</em>.</p>
<p>Yuuri froze.  His name was very clear this time, and it almost sounded like…</p>
<p>But no.  There was nobody in the room, and there was no way that <em>Viktor Nikiforov</em> would be talking to him.</p>
<p>Viktor Nikiforov was dead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The chapters will get a bit longer after this one!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri faces the voice in his head - literally.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this AU, Viktor had not cut his hair yet before he died.  I know 24 is probably a bit late to still have long hair…but it’s Viktor Extra Nikiforov.  He does what he wants lol.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been four days since they had returned from Worlds, and Yuuri was starting to think he was going insane.  Why, you ask?</p>
<p><em>Yuuri</em>.</p>
<p><em>That’s</em> why.  Multiple times a day, Yuuri could <em>swear</em> he heard Viktor Nikiforov saying his name, and it was only growing in frequency.</p>
<p>There were some very obvious reasons that Yuuri <em>had</em> to be going insane.  For starters, he had never met Viktor Nikiforov, so Viktor Nikiforov certainly wouldn’t know who he was, let alone address him by name.  The bigger issue, though, (because he needed to throw this out there again for emphasis, and maybe just so Yuuri could really convince himself he <em>must</em> be going insane) was that <em>Viktor Nikiforov was dead</em>.  He was <em>very much dead</em> and had died <em>two years ago </em>one free skate away from winning the World Championships.  He was <em>very much dead</em> so he <em>most certainly</em> could <em>not</em> be talking to Yuuri in his head.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri.</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m definitely going insane,” Yuuri muttered to himself as he closed his textbook and flopped back onto his bed.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri Katsuki.</em>
</p>
<p>“What do you <em>want</em>?!” Yuuri finally yelled, causing Phichit’s usual humming in the other room to go silent.</p>
<p>
  <em>Finally.</em>
</p>
<p>“Yuuri?  Do you want me to keep it down?” Phichit hesitantly called back.</p>
<p><em>It took you long enough to talk to me, Yuuri.</em>  The voice sounded annoyed – how could a <em>voice </em>in Yuuri’s head be <em>annoyed</em>?</p>
<p>“Uh, no!  That’s okay, Phich.  Uh, just, um…I’m yelling at my calc homework!” Yuuri answered with a false laugh.</p>
<p>“Ugh, I feel that.  Just let me know if you need some quiet!” Phichit yelled, then promptly went back to humming <em>Shall We Skate</em>, a song he was determined to use for a program sooner or later.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri</em>.</p>
<p>“<em>What</em>?” Yuuri whispered harshly.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri, you’re not going crazy.</em>
</p>
<p>“I’ve got to be going <em>something </em>to think I’m hearing a dead man!” Yuuri argued with – with himself.  With an <em>invisible voice </em>talking to him <em>invisibly</em> in his room and sounding <em>awfully like a very dead skater that Yuuri might have had a crush on</em>-</p>
<p>
  <em>I suppose that’s fair.</em>
</p>
<p>“So you’re <em>not </em>Viktor Nikiforov, then?” Yuuri asked hopefully, staring at the white ceiling above him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, no, I definitely am- was- oh, you know what I mean.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri froze.  He was talking to a dead man.  He was <em>hearing a dead man’s voice</em> <em>in his head</em> and he was <em>talking back to it.</em>  “You’re…you’re Viktor Nikiforov.”</p>
<p><em>Yes…I mean, I certainly </em>was<em>.</em></p>
<p>“What are you now, then?”</p>
<p><em>Dead, just like you said, </em>the voice said dryly.  Yuuri didn’t think that was very funny.  <em>Uh…I mean, I’m here.  I’m kind of a spirit?  I can do things if I…well, it’s a little awkward to mention.  I don’t know what I should call what I am now, but…I’m definitely Viktor.  I still think like Viktor, still skate like Viktor…</em></p>
<p>“Still…<em>skate</em> like Viktor?” Yuuri asked, horror and understanding filling him as he mulled those words over in his head.  It made so much sense.  All those missed moments, beautiful skating that Celestino insisted was “positively inspired” and “worthy of a world champion” and, in Phichit’s eerily-accurate words, “like seeing the ghost of Viktor Nikiforov in Yuuri’s body.”</p>
<p>
  <em>So I…might have borrowed your body a few times?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri was growing increasingly…something.  Anxious, angry – either or both worked, and he was willing to bet that Viktor could feel his emotions by his rush to keep talking- thinking- oh, whatever it was!</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t do it all the time!  Just, like…uh…sometimes you get really anxious?  So when that happens, I just kind of…slip in?  Take your spot for a few minutes so you can calm down?</em>
</p>
<p>“I get anxious <em>all the time</em>!” Yuuri protested.</p>
<p><em>Yes, but not </em>really<em> anxious.  You don’t go full-blown panic attack all the time, just mostly at…</em></p>
<p>“…at competitions,” Yuuri finished for him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Exactly.  And that one time a girl tried asking for your number at Starbucks.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri blushed at the half-memory.  At least he knew now how he’d gotten home that day, unscathed and with a phone number on a rumpled napkin in his hand.</p>
<p>The deeper meaning hit him, too, though.  “…so I haven’t been skating my own programs?”</p>
<p><em>Well, your body has been.</em>  Viktor sounded very sheepish, almost embarrassed at his own words.</p>
<p>“But…did <em>I </em>do it?” Yuuri pressed.</p>
<p>
  <em>…it was your body that did it.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri blanched.  “Viktor!”</p>
<p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p>
<p>“I didn’t earn my medals then?” Yuuri asked hesitantly, glancing at the awards hanging from his curtain rods.  He could feel what little confidence he had confidence waning and his heart splintering into pieces.</p>
<p>
  <em>You definitely earned them.</em>
</p>
<p>“It doesn’t <em>sound</em> like I did!”</p>
<p>
  <em>I just took over your brain for a bit.  All that muscle memory?  All of that was you.</em>
</p>
<p>“Yes, but muscle memory can’t do…<em>that</em>!  How do you know my routines, anyway?” Yuuri asked curiously.</p>
<p><em>I can kind of…see through your mind?  I don’t really know how to describe it.  I’m in </em>here<em>,</em> Viktor continued, and Yuuri could have sworn he heard a faint knocking on something, somewhere.  <em>I’m next to your mind, in a way.  I can sort of…slip in when needed, like moving one train car off to let another one on.  It’s smooth and completely harmless, and you can swap back at any time.</em></p>
<p>“So you…see what I see?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Pretty much.</em>
</p>
<p>“Uh…all the time?” Yuuri said uneasily as he looked around his room, the two Viktor Nikiforov posters attracting his gaze like flashing neon signs.</p>
<p><em>Yes, Yuuri, I see your posters,</em> Viktor said, and Yuuri could hear the warm chuckle underneath his words.</p>
<p>Yuuri yelped, scrambling from his bed and frantically reaching to tear them off the wall.</p>
<p><em>No, no, Yuuri!  </em>Yuuri! Viktor called urgently, Yuuri’s hands freezing in midair – whether Yuuri stopped on his own or it was Viktor who had forced him to stop, Yuuri wasn’t sure.  <em>It’s okay.  Leave them.  I would see where you put them, anyway.  If they bring you inspiration or joy or- or </em>any <em>emotion, they should stay.  </em>Please<em>, Yuuri.  Let them stay.</em></p>
<p>Slowly, Yuuri let his hands fall until they rested against his thighs.  “Are you just trying to make me feel better?”</p>
<p><em>Partly,</em> Viktor admitted, <em>but…</em></p>
<p>“But what?” Yuuri whispered.</p>
<p><em>I…I like them.  It reminds me that it was real…that </em>I <em>was real at one point.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri felt like he was swallowing around a sharp rock in his throat.  “Oh,” he said, but it hardly made a sound.  “I’m sorry,” Yuuri said more clearly – because really, what else <em>could</em> he say to something like that?</p>
<p>
  <em>There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, звезда.  You can’t help how the events of my life occurred; you can’t help that I ended up here…</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri traced a finger gently along the poster in front of him.  It was new, relatively speaking.  It was the final poster ever produced of Viktor, showing him on the ice with Makkachin doggy-grinning at his side, tongue lolling out of her mouth happily.</p>
<p><em>Oh, Makka…</em> Viktor said wistfully.</p>
<p>“How did you end up…here?  There?” Yuuri asked.</p>
<p><em>I…I don’t really know.  I’m not </em>completely <em>sure, at least.  I know where I was before…what happened before.  I wish I didn’t.</em></p>
<p>“Before?”</p>
<p><em>Before I died,</em> Viktor clarified.  Yuuri felt distinctly cold.  <em>You know, I’m sure, right?  It must have made the news.</em></p>
<p>“You died in an alley.  Someone found your body and called your emergency contact,” Yuuri told him.</p>
<p><em>They called Yakov?</em> Viktor asked, his voice sounding strained.</p>
<p>“You didn’t know that?”</p>
<p><em>I didn’t know anything after…</em>after<em>.</em></p>
<p>“When did you start to…<em>know</em> things again?”</p>
<p><em>When I met you.  When I </em>joined<em> you, rather.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri’s brow furrowed, trying to think when he’d first noticed things happened.  It had been at Nationals, but… “When was that?”</p>
<p>
  <em>When Phichit gave you the necklace.</em>
</p>
<p>“The necklace…?” Yuuri echoed, his hands instantly grabbing at it and pulling it away from his neck.  He went to reach for the clasp, only to hear Viktor shout.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri!  No, no, stop.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri obediently set the necklace down again.  “Okay.  Explain.”</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s a…vessel or something.  That’s what I’m attached to.  If you take it off, we can’t talk.</em>
</p>
<p>“Oh,” Yuuri said, the word let out with a sharp exhale.</p>
<p>
  <em>Please, just…let me know when you’re going to take the necklace off.  Let me say goodbye this time.</em>
</p>
<p>And really, of everything Yuuri was hearing, <em>that</em> was what took the wind out of him worse than any fall to the ice ever could.  “Viktor...”</p>
<p>
  <em>I know I can’t stay here forever, but let me know when it will be over.  For good.</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m not going to get <em>rid of you</em>, Viktor.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Other people would.  They’ve tried before.</em>
</p>
<p>That left Yuuri utterly bewildered.  Who would have ever wanted to get rid of <em>Viktor Nikiforov?</em>  “Who tried?”</p>
<p>
  <em>The Federation, at first.  You probably don’t remember, but my domestic scores were pretty low initially.</em>
</p>
<p>“It was practically criminal,” Yuuri agreed, thinking of the low program component scores Viktor was getting the year before his international debut.  “And yet, somehow you still won silver that season.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes.  That’s when they started backing me, financially and with scores.  And then after that…there were lots of comments, some threats.  Most people didn’t try to follow through, though.</em>
</p>
<p>“Most?” Yuuri prompted.</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s how I died.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri bolted upright in bed, eyes wide as he stared at the poster of a smiling, <em>alive</em> Viktor Nikiforov on the wall.  “<em>What?!”</em></p>
<p><em>The fucker was hired.</em>  Yuuri gaped.  <em>Said his employer wanted me incapacitated.  Yuuri, do you think that whoever it was really wanted me dead?</em></p>
<p>Yuuri’s mouth tried to work – hell, his <em>brain</em> tried to work, but complete sentences were out of his grasp.  “I- Viktor- you- you can’t just ask someone a question like that out of the blue!”</p>
<p>
  <em>Why not?</em>
</p>
<p>“Because- <em>because</em>-”</p>
<p>
  <em>Did you want me dead, too?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri practically fell off the bed – okay, no, he <em>actually</em> fell off the bed, landing with a hard <em>thump </em>on the floor.  “What the<em> fuck, </em>Viktor?!”</p>
<p>
  <em>I…Yuuri-  Shit, I’m sorry.  I just…I haven’t talked to anyone in two years.  I haven’t talked to anyone since I died.  I’m just a little…</em>
</p>
<p>“Paranoid?” Yuuri supplied as he rubbed at his hip.</p>
<p><em>…maybe</em>, Viktor agreed sheepishly.</p>
<p>“Viktor.  I have <em>posters of you on my wall</em>.  I <em>literally started skating</em> because of you-”</p>
<p><em>You </em>what<em>?!</em></p>
<p>“-and you think I would have ever wanted you <em>dead</em>?”</p>
<p><em>You started skating </em>because of me<em>?</em></p>
<p>Yuuri scoffed, standing up to head to the bathroom.  “That’s <em>all</em> you got out of that?” he murmured as he tiptoed past Phichit’s open door.</p>
<p><em>Well, what was I </em>supposed <em>to get out of it?</em></p>
<p>“You think someone like me would want you dead?” Yuuri said pointedly as he closed the bathroom door tightly behind him, immediately turning on the fan to drown out any of his words.</p>
<p>
  <em>…when you put it like that…</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri scoffed.  “You must have been the pretty one, right?” he said teasingly.</p>
<p>
  <em>What’s that supposed to mean?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri rolled his eyes affectionately, catching the action in the broad mirror.  “Nothing, Viktor.  You’re stressing for no reason.  I…probably was one of your biggest fans.  You have nothing to fear from me.”</p>
<p>
  <em>You swear it?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri could hear the apprehension in Viktor’s words, and he longed to make it go away.  “I swear it,” he assured him.</p>
<p>It almost felt like Viktor let out a long-held breath.  <em>Okay, then.  I’ve got a- well, it’s sort of a room.</em></p>
<p>“Where?” Yuuri asked, his brow furrowing as he stared at his reflection, brown eyes searching his own face for…something.</p>
<p><em>Here.  Your mind, that is.  It’s just down the…hall?  There’s a corridor of some kind.  That’s how I get to you – how I </em>become<em> you.</em></p>
<p>“When you take over, you mean?” Yuuri clarified, but his question was unnecessary.  Yuuri was nervous, and he was stalling.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri, you know I wouldn’t hurt you,</em> Viktor said with a strangely echoing sigh.  <em>There’s no need to be afraid of me.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri looked himself right in the eyes.  “Of course.  You’re right.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Will you…come visit?</em>
</p>
<p>“Now?” Yuuri asked.</p>
<p><em>…yes?  </em>Please<em>, Yuuri.  I’ll walk you through it.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri searched his eyes again, looking for any trace of Viktor, any part of his body that wasn’t fully <em>Yuuri</em>.</p>
<p>He couldn’t find any.</p>
<p>Without looking, he reached for the doorknob and locked it, then turned away from the mirror to start the shower.</p>
<p>
  <em>What are you doing?</em>
</p>
<p>“What will this look like to anyone else?” Yuuri asked instead.</p>
<p>
  <em>What do you mean?</em>
</p>
<p>“Visiting you – will I pass out?  Will I look like a zombie?  Do you want Phichit to find out?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Ah.  Alright then.</em>
</p>
<p>“So, you said you’re walk me through this.  What’s first, Coach?” Yuuri said teasingly.</p>
<p><em>Close your eyes,</em> Viktor said, his echoing voice soothing any last worries Yuuri had.  <em>Picture…well, what does your mind looks like to you?  How do you organize your thoughts?  How do you remember things?</em></p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p>
  <em>My mind is- was- oh, you know what I mean- it’s organized like a training schedule and a trophy case.  All my thoughts get filed by where they fall in the training schedule, and all the special moments have a trophy or a memento.  Everything for me is arranged in relation to my years on the ice.  How do you remember things?</em>
</p>
<p>It wasn’t something Yuuri had ever considered before, but he instantly knew the answer.  “It’s like an ocean.  Like a beach.  All my memories are on the shore, and my thoughts just…”  There was a pause, then, “<em>fade like the ebbing and flowing of the waves</em><em>,” </em>he finished, but Yuuri was no longer speaking aloud or standing in his bathroom.  He found himself on the ocean shore looking out at a familiar sea as the orange sun kissed the horizon.</p>
<p>“Wow,” he murmured as he watched the never-ending waves crash against the sand, fine droplets of mist surrounding him as they broke apart.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri,</em> Viktor’s voice called, sounding somehow closer than before.</p>
<p>“What next?” Yuuri asked, though he was reluctant to leave the shore.</p>
<p><em>Don’t worry; you can come back,</em> Viktor assured him.  <em>Look for…a door.  Something like that.  What do you see around you?</em></p>
<p>“Water,” Yuuri said.  “Waves and sand and…a little shack.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Go to the shack, then.  Open the door.  I’ll be waiting for you.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri took a deep breath, steeling his nerves (and pinching himself to check that this wasn’t a dream) before placing his hand on the cold doorknob of the weathered shack.  It turned easily, opening to reveal a dark hallway.</p>
<p>Where was Viktor, though?  He said he would be waiting, but he wasn’t there, and all Yuuri could see was…darkness.</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s okay.  Just take a step, Yuuri.  My room is across the hall.</em>
</p>
<p>“But…why can’t you come here?”</p>
<p>
  <em>My door is…locked.  You need to be the one to open it, I think.</em>
</p>
<p>And suddenly, Yuuri found himself afraid once more.  Although he was fairly certain that <em>Viktor Nikiforov</em> was sharing his body – somehow – he found himself wondering if Viktor was entirely benevolent.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri?</em> Viktor asked, sensing the change in his emotions.</p>
<p>“How do I know that it’s safe?” Yuuri asked.</p>
<p><em>I suppose you can’t know that for sure.  I am telling you that it is safe, but you don’t really </em>know <em>me, do you?</em></p>
<p>It was true; although Yuuri knew photos and scores and statistics about Viktor’s career, he didn’t really know <em>Viktor</em>.  He knew Viktor was dead and that Yuuri had felt incredibly sad over the fact, but he didn’t know Viktor as a person or his intentions.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri, how do you know a jump is safe?</em> Viktor asked instead.</p>
<p>“…I don’t; not until I’m already going for it,” Yuuri answered.</p>
<p><em>Exactly.  This is a jump.  It’s one that I </em>need<em> you to make, but it’s up to you if you </em>want <em>to.  It’s your body; you have control.</em></p>
<p>“And if I don’t jump?” Yuuri pressed.</p>
<p>
  <em>Then we’ll just talk.  I’ll only come out when you’re in distress, and we’ll stay as things are – or you can take the necklace off, and you’ll never need to be involved with me again.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri felt his heart ache at that idea.  Taking off the necklace would mean that Viktor wouldn’t exist at all anymore.  He’d be trapped, and it would be Yuuri’s fault.</p>
<p>“And…what if I do jump?”</p>
<p><em>Then you’ll see me…at least, I hope you’ll be able to see me.  If you open the door, I will be able to use your body when </em>you <em>want me to.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri stilled, breathing in sharply at the words.  “If you need the door to be open, how have you been taking control so far?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Sometimes when you’re in distress, the door opens by itself.  As soon as you’re calmer, though, I get pulled back – or at least, that’s what happened the first time.  Since then, I’ve been…locking myself back in before I can get ripped away.  It makes for a much more pleasant experience.</em>
</p>
<p>Staring into the darkness ahead of him, Yuuri pondered that thought.  “So if I locked the door again, you’d have to stay in there?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m in control?  If this doesn’t go well, I can just…lock you back in?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes.  You are in control, Yuuri, and I will accept whatever decisions you make.  It’s your body, and I’m eternally grateful that you didn’t rip the necklace off the second you realized I was here.</em>
</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Yuuri made one step forward.  The dark hallway illuminated in a dim blue light, making the outline of a door visible across the way.  Hanging on the door was a single black ice skate, its golden blade sparkling brightly as if it were under a spotlight.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Yuuri said, taking a few steps more and reaching for the doorknob.  “…I hope this is real.”  Yuuri’s hand was met with resistance as he tried to turn the doorknob, but soon there was a loud <em>click</em> and it eased open.  Bright light shone through the crack as Yuuri pushed it inwards.</p>
<p>“<em>Yuuri</em>!” Viktor exclaimed, only the outline of his form visible as the door opened.  It took Yuuri’s eyes a moment to adjust to the bright light compared to the darkness of the hallway, but soon he found himself in a large skating rink.</p>
<p>He also found himself being tackled to the ground, his head cradled by a soft hand just before it hit the floor.  The air was pushed out of Yuuri’s lungs as another body landed on top of him.</p>
<p>“Yuuri!”</p>
<p>“Viktor?” Yuuri asked breathlessly, blinking quickly as the man’s features came into focus.</p>
<p>And <em>god</em>, it was <em>Viktor Nikiforov</em>.  There he was, piercing blue eyes and sharp features and long silver hair– his dead idol was <em>here</em>, sharing his body, tackling him to the ground, <em>making sure his head didn’t hit the concrete</em>-</p>
<p>“I’m so glad I can see you now!  And you can see <em>me</em>!”</p>
<p>-and <em>making that damn heart-shaped smile at him</em>-</p>
<p>“And now we can talk, and I can help you!” Viktor babbled on.</p>
<p>-and wanting to <em>help him</em>?</p>
<p>“Help me?” Yuuri voiced.</p>
<p>Viktor only grinned brighter.  “Of course!  You need to improve your skating-” Yuuri agreed, although he was slightly offended that it was said so blatantly, “-and I can help you do that!  It’ll be <em>much</em> easier if I don’t have to wait for you to be stressed out so I can slip in and skate for you.  We’ll have to work on that,” he added as an aside.  Lifting his weight off Yuuri, he rose to his feet and offered the downed man a hand, which Yuuri gratefully accepted.</p>
<p>“Uh, <em>what</em>?” Yuuri uttered, the events of the past few minutes whirling rapidly in his head.</p>
<p>“We’ll need to get Celestino to work on pushing more quads to the second half of the program,” Viktor mused.  “With your stamina, I’m sure we- <em>you</em>,” he quickly corrected, “can handle that.”</p>
<p>Yuuri shook his head.  “But- <em>why</em>, Viktor?”</p>
<p>Viktor appeared perplexed – not confused; no, Viktor was doing that adorable head tilt that Vicchan always did when a toy squeaked and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.  “Why?  Because you can do this, Yuuri.  Why shouldn’t you push your talents as far as they’ll go?”</p>
<p>“But…why <em>me</em>?” Yuuri asked suddenly.  “Why are you…I mean, you’re connected to the necklace, so I guess that’s why you’re <em>here</em>, but why did you talk to me in the first place?  Why do you…” …<em>take over my body?</em> “…skate as me?”</p>
<p>“I want to help you,” Viktor told him again.</p>
<p>“You said that before, but…help me with <em>what</em>?”  Yuuri was fairly certain <em>he</em> wasn’t the dead one here, and he didn’t see what Viktor <em>could </em>help him with.</p>
<p>“With your skating – and, well, with <em>everything</em>…the anxiety, the skating, the stress…  I want to help you be the best you.  I know you can be a legend, Yuuri.”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s brow furrowed.  “No.  That was you, not me.  I’m not legend material.”</p>
<p>“You most certainly are, Yuuri.  Look at what you did this past season!”</p>
<p>Yuuri shook his head frantically.  “That was you, not me!” he implored.  “<em>I </em>can’t do those things!”</p>
<p>“It was your body, wasn’t it?” Viktor said pointedly.</p>
<p>Yuuri spluttered.  “Well, <em>yes</em>, but it was <em>you</em> using it!”</p>
<p>“Maybe, but it was still <em>your body</em>.  If your body can do it that easily with me in control, why can’t you do it just as easily when you’re the one in control?”</p>
<p>“Well- because- it’s just-”</p>
<p>Viktor smirked – and <em>oh</em>, how Yuuri had forgotten what Viktor’s face looked like when it was determined.  It made his heart do little flips in his chest, and he quickly realized that he was in very big trouble.  “Don’t try to deny it, Yuuri,” Viktor said smoothly.  “You’re meant for great things, звезда моя.  I know what you’re capable of.  Why are you pushing against it so hard?”</p>
<p>“Because I’m not- <em>Viktor</em>-”  Maybe he hadn’t meant his words to come out as a sentence, but they certainly summed up his problem.  He <em>wasn’t</em> Viktor; he could never <em>be</em> Viktor – even if Viktor could be him.</p>
<p>“You’re not me,” Viktor agreed, and for a brief moment, Yuuri felt a sharp stab in his heart.  <em>Oh.  Even Viktor agrees that I’m not enough</em>, he realized, only to have his thoughts interrupted.  “You’re <em>better</em> than me.  I want to show you that, and then I want you to show that to the whole world.  Yuuri Katsuki is not someone that should be kept secret; he’s meant to be a shining star.”</p>
<p>Yuuri scoffed.  “A fallen star, maybe,” he retorted.</p>
<p>Viktor looked disappointed, which, strangely enough, hurt Yuuri to his very soul.  “Yuuri…do you really think so badly of yourself?”</p>
<p>“It’s the truth!”</p>
<p>“No, звезда, no…the truth is that I am the fallen star, and you are about to go supernova.  <em>Let me help you.</em>”</p>
<p>And maybe it was that same smirk from before or the disappointment that cut Yuuri so deeply or just the sheer insanity of <em>having someone possess his body </em>and <em>having that someone be the dead World Champion Viktor Nikiforov</em>, but Yuuri’s mouth opened of its own accord and said, “Okay.  Fine.  <em>Yes.</em>”</p>
<p>And there was that smirk again, this time a gold-medal-worthy one that Yuuri was more used to seeing on the top of a podium rather than being directed at him.  “We’ll make you shine, my Yuuri; just you wait.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yuuri has met Viktor now!  I think Yuuri's being a pretty good sport about having a dead person share his body, don't you?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri finds himself with a new coach.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Quick note on some terminology in this chapter: a Tano is a jump done with one arm over the head (named after Brian Boitano), and a Rippon is a jump done with both arms over the head (named after Adam Rippon).  These will get mentioned more throughout the story, but I'll try and add the occasional reminder about what they are!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuuri wasn’t sure how it happened.  It started with a lot of late-night ice sessions, Yuuri having been lucky enough to get a key to the rink from the kind (and slightly exasperated) janitor many years ago.  Having the secret of a <em>dead figure skating champion</em> sharing his body was giving Yuuri extra anxiety, and being on the ice helped to quiet his mind.</p>
<p>When his thoughts weren’t racing, Yuuri could focus on skating and Viktor at the same time.  When they were on the ice alone, he and Viktor talked – mostly about Yuuri’s programs and jumps but also about Viktor’s dear Makkachin and his rink family back in Russia.  Sometimes, Viktor talked about how much he missed the ice and being able to skate like Yuuri could, tying his own skates on and stepping onto real ice.</p>
<p>It was on one of those nights that Yuuri leaned against the boards, closed his eyes, and walked through the dim hallway to Viktor’s room, ushering him into Yuuri’s beach scenery and pushing him to take control.</p>
<p>And it <em>worked</em>.  Viktor skated that night, first just making laps around the ice and basking in the sheer joy of being able to simply <em>skate</em> again, then tracing over the marks from Yuuri’s figures and branching out into spins and the occasional jump.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” Viktor said one night.  “I wonder if I can…”</p>
<p>
  <em>Viktor?</em>
</p>
<p>But whatever Viktor wanted to know, he didn’t say.  Instead, he made a lap around the rink, slowly and easily at first, then with greater speed as he-</p>
<p><em>Oh my god, Viktor, I don’t know how to do a quad flip!  VIKTOR! </em>Yuuri screamed in horror.</p>
<p>One, two, three, <em>four </em>full turns in the air, then the blade made contact with the ice as if it were nothing.</p>
<p>Viktor grinned.</p>
<p><em>…I just did a quad flip,</em> Yuuri marveled.</p>
<p>“Well, technically <em>I </em>did a quad flip, but it was your amazing body that landed it, so I <em>suppose</em> we can share the credit,” Viktor offered magnanimously, a grin stretching across his face that was worthy of a gold medal.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s mind was already overrun with thoughts of his body having <em>landed a quad flip</em> that he made no comment about Viktor thinking he had an amazing body.</p>
<p>They began swapping every night, sharing the quiet ice time – but not the pain.  Yuuri was the only one to feel the bruises in the morning when Viktor went a little too hard, often attempting jumps his body wasn’t used to with less initial success than the quad flip.</p>
<p>What started as skating idle figures became <em>practice</em> as the weeks progressed, and Viktor had taken over the role of coach when nobody was around.</p>
<p>“You want me to do a <em>triple axel</em> with a <em>Tano</em>?  It’s not possible; nobody’s done it,” Yuuri protested one night.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh, it’s very possible.  I did it, remember?</em>
</p>
<p>“No one <em>living </em>has done it,” Yuuri corrected.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ouch, Yuuri, I’m wounded!</em>
</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, you and your bruised ego.  If I try this, though, I’ll have <em>actual bruises</em>, and I really don’t feel like that today.  I can’t do it, Viktor.”</p>
<p>All of a sudden, it felt like Yuuri was being shoved to the side of an overcrowded doorway as Viktor took control of his body.  “Sure you can, Yuuri!” Viktor said, skating a lap around the rink before performing a clean triple axel, Tano and all.  “Hmm…I wonder if I could do it with two arms instead?” he mused.</p>
<p><em>No!  Viktor, </em>no!  <em>What did I say about bruises?</em></p>
<p>“Ah, but Yuuri, <em>I </em>wouldn’t have to feel the bruises, now would I?” Viktor teased.</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s exactly my point!</em>
</p>
<p>“Fine, fine.  Here,” Viktor said before shoving Yuuri back to the front.  <em>It’s possible.  Your body did it.  Now </em>you<em> have to do it.</em></p>
<p>But try as Yuuri might, he couldn’t seem to get it.  Every time he leapt into the air, lifting his arm above his head would make his axis tilt precariously and send him tumbling to the ice.</p>
<p>“I can’t, Viktor,” Yuuri protested through his panting breaths.  He punched the ice with his fists, wincing when they hit too hard.  What was one more bruise, though?</p>
<p><em>You </em>can<em>, Yuuri.  Try again.</em></p>
<p>“I <em>can’t</em>, Viktor!  I’m never going to get this!” he yelled, the sound filling the silent rink.</p>
<p>
  <em>You can, Yuuri.  Do it once more.  For me, Yuuri.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri dearly hoped that Viktor was just used to getting his way due to his fame and that he hadn’t figured out that Yuuri would do <em>literally</em> <em>anything </em>Viktor asked.  “Fine,” he grumbled, pushing himself off the ice and setting up to jump – and fail – yet again.</p>
<p>
  <em>No, no, Yuuri, not like that.  Like…uh…you know what?  Hold on.</em>
</p>
<p>Before Yuuri knew it, he was the one watching from the skybox in his mind as Viktor took over, gathering speed before he launched into the jump, stretching one arm over his head and snapping his other arm and legs in tighter and more quickly than Yuuri had been doing before.  He was twisting, turning in the air, and-</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>.  It was like a lightbulb had gone off in Yuuri’s mind.  He could feel that little bit of extra tension in his abdomen that was helping to keep his body straight and prevent his axis from tilting.  <em>So</em> that’s<em> what Viktor meant.</em></p>
<p>Viktor landed smoothly, and Yuuri was astounded once more that Viktor could skate in someone else’s body – but then again, he’d been dead for years and been in Yuuri’s body for months now.  It really shouldn’t have surprised him anymore.  And…did Viktor even remember what his own body felt like?</p>
<p>“Did you feel that, Yuuri?” Viktor asked him, his words in Yuuri’s voice echoing in the empty rink.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes.</em>
</p>
<p>“Let me do it again so you can really pay attention to <em>how</em> I do it, okay?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Sounds good!</em>
</p>
<p>Three more jumps later, Yuuri was back in control of his body and was attempting the same jump.  His arm felt stiff in the air and he wobbled the landing, but the terrifying tilt he had been getting before was gone.</p>
<p>“Wow,” he murmured.</p>
<p>
  <em>Nice job, Yuuri.  Now we need to make it perfect.</em>
</p>
<p>“That…really worked.”</p>
<p>
  <em>I said it would, didn’t I?</em>
</p>
<p>“I meant the…the swapping.  It’s a weird coaching method, but it worked.”</p>
<p>
  <em>You’re sharing a body with Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri, and it seems that you’re a very hands-on learner.  Of course it would work!</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri closed his eyes and smiled, imagining Viktor standing in front of him and scolding him.  “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Coach.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Coach.  I like that!  Coach Viktor.</em>
</p>
<p>“Don’t let it get to your head, Viktor,” Yuuri teased as he opened his eyes again, finding only empty ice in front of him.</p>
<p><em>That’s </em>Coach<em> Viktor to you!</em></p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri said with a roll of his eyes.</p>
<p><em>I can see </em>and feel<em> when you roll your eyes, you know!</em> Viktor spluttered.</p>
<p>“Well, feel <em>this!</em>” Yuuri announced as he launched into the same jump again, <em>both</em> arms raised above his head this time.</p>
<p>Viktor definitely felt that.  He felt how Yuuri soared through the air, core tight – until it wasn’t, and suddenly his body was tilting precariously in the air as he tumbled to the ice.</p>
<p><em>Ouch</em>, Viktor commented.</p>
<p>“Ugh, you don’t have to rub it in,” Yuuri grumbled as he poked at his hip.</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s going to be pretty tomorrow.</em>
</p>
<p>“Seriously.  I don’t even know what I expected.”</p>
<p><em>You expected to prove that you’re better than me,</em> Viktor told him.  <em>You’re not.</em></p>
<p>Hearing the words, even though they were only in Yuuri’s mind, was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.  “I know that,” he whispered in the empty rink, the words dissipating in the cold air for nobody else to hear.</p>
<p><em>You’re not better than me – not yet,</em> Viktor continued, causing Yuuri to freeze.  <em>You will be.  You’ll be better than any of us can ever imagine – and you’ll get that Rippon axel, I promise you.  I’ll make sure of it.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri would have believed Viktor if he said the sun rose at night – he would have believed anything he told him.  But something about the way Viktor <em>promised</em> him…  “Please stay close to me,” Yuuri whispered to him.</p>
<p>
  <em>I will, Yuuri.  I’ll do everything I can to stay with you as long as you need me.</em>
</p>
<p>“And after then?” Yuuri boldly asked as he picked himself up off the ice, shaking the soreness out of his limbs.</p>
<p><em>After then, I’ll stay as long as you want me.  </em>A wave of relief washed through Yuuri, followed closely by a wash of comfort – only one of those emotions was his own.  <em>Now let me see a Rippon lutz,</em> Viktor ordered.</p>
<p>Yuuri nodded, heading down the rink for a triple lutz, both hands over his head as he rotated through the air.</p>
<p><em>Lovely, but not what I meant,</em> Viktor said.  <em>Any Russian novice could have done that.</em></p>
<p>“Huh?” Yuuri muttered as he glided down the rink once more.  “Lutz.  Both hands up.  <em>Rippon lutz, </em>no?”</p>
<p>
  <em>My apologies, Yuuri; I should have been more specific.  We need to work up to that axel you so desperately want.  Do a Rippon lutz…but make it a quad.</em>
</p>
<p>And really, Yuuri wasn’t sure whether he should do the rational thing and protest…or just roll his eyes and obey.  His body would be jumping that quad with his hands high above his head within the minute whether he liked it or not.</p>
<p>And because this was his life now, Yuuri rolled his eyes, breathed a sarcastic “Yes, Coach,” and <em>jumped</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had hoped to have this up earlier in the week, but Christmas (and all the wrapping/baking/gifting things that go with it) happened.  If you celebrated this week, I hope you had a wonderful holiday!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri and Viktor slip up, Viktor finally sees Yuuri's "unfairly beautiful face and glorious butt," and Yuuri's anxiety just can't let him have nice things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Skating reminder: Tano refers to a jump with one arm above the skater's head, and Rippon refers to a jump with both arms above the skater's head.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before he knew it, June had arrived, and Yuuri needed to start thinking about programs for the upcoming season.  He wasn’t sure what he wanted for music yet, but he and Viktor were determined to increase his technical content in the meantime.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s idea of increasing his technical score was to learn one axel variation and one new jump, the quad flip.  <em>Viktor’s</em> idea of increasing Yuuri’s base value was to learn <em>two </em>axel variations and both the quad flip <em>and</em> quad lutz.</p>
<p>Viktor was going to be the death of him – directly or indirectly through the innumerable bruises that littered his body from fall after fall, Yuuri wasn’t sure.  Viktor was confident that with enough repetitions of each jump by swapping control of Yuuri’s body back and forth, Yuuri would learn them all soon enough.  Yuuri wasn’t convinced, but he followed along anyways.</p>
<p>It was still <em>Viktor Nikiforov</em> teaching him, after all.  Yuuri would follow his every word.</p>
<p>“Yuuri!  I’ve got dinner!”  Phichit’s voice rang through the empty rink one evening, but it was too late.  Viktor was still in control as he showed Yuuri the jumps he wanted to teach him that season, and he had already set up for the quad flip.  He picked into the ice just as Phichit rounded the corner, and Yuuri’s roommate had the perfect view of the quad flip, both arms raised above Yuuri’s head as he turned through the air.  One second later, Yuuri’s blade cut into the ice just as Phichit’s hands covered his mouth.  Viktor came to a stop, turning to face him.</p>
<p>“What was <em>that</em>?” Phichit demanded.</p>
<p><em>Shit</em>, Viktor said, the word echoing in Yuuri’s thoughts at the same moment.  <em>Play dumb, Yuuri!</em>  Viktor pulled himself back, forcing Yuuri into control again.</p>
<p>“What was what?” Yuuri asked, wiping sweat off his brow with a quivering hand.</p>
<p>“That <em>quad flip</em>!  A <em>quad flip </em>with a <em>Rippon</em>!  Celestino hasn’t worked on a quad flip with you yet!  What the <em>hell</em>?!”</p>
<p><em>Shit,</em> was all the help Viktor offered for the situation he’d gotten them into.</p>
<p>“I, uh, I’ve been practicing by myself?”</p>
<p>That was probably the wrong thing to say if Phichit’s horrified expression was any indication.  “Do you know how <em>dangerous</em> that is?!  Jumping quads without supervision?”</p>
<p>“You jumped your first quad toe without a coach around!” Yuuri protested.</p>
<p>“Yes, but <em>you</em> were there!  Yuuri, if you fell, how would you get help?”</p>
<p>“But I <em>wasn’t </em>going to fall!” Yuuri argued.  “At least, not badly.  Nothing worse than my usual falls.”</p>
<p>His roommate rolled his eyes to the ceiling.  “Yuuri Katsuki, it is <em>not safe</em> to train a quad flip when you’re alone.”</p>
<p>“But I’m <em>not</em> alone!”  The words were out of Yuuri’s mouth before he could stop them, and he desperately wished he could shove them back inside the same way he and Viktor could shove each other out of the way.</p>
<p>Phichit’s eyes narrowed.  “Yuuri, it’s 9 at night.  The janitors have left, and nobody else is here.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri…</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri studied Phichit’s face for a moment, his mouth twisting as he considered his options.  The hard way – the <em>lying</em> way – would require a lot of convincing.  The easy way – the <em>truth</em> – would require even more convincing.</p>
<p>But what if Phichit saw something else?  What if Viktor slipped up again when Phichit was around?  What <em>then</em>?</p>
<p>Taking a deep, steadying breath, Yuuri <em>jumped</em>.  “I’m sharing a body with Viktor Nikiforov.”</p>
<p><em>Yuuri!  </em>Viktor’s shock quickly flooded his body and mixed with Yuuri’s own fear and relief.</p>
<p>Phichit looked at him for a moment before sighing.  “Yuuri, you don’t need to lie to me.  Are you hiding a boyfriend or something?  Do you have a second coach helping you?  Are you breaking your contract with Ciao Ciao and just afraid to tell him?  Because I’ll miss you, but I can help break the news-”</p>
<p>“<em>I am sharing a body with Viktor Nikiforov</em>,” Yuuri said again, being sure to clearly enunciate each word.  “Viktor Nikiforov’s spirit is stuck in that necklace you gave me for my birthday, and he’s been helping me train.  I didn’t jump that quad flip; I let him take over my body so <em>he </em>could do it.”</p>
<p>Phichit scrutinized Yuuri’s face, then burst into laughter.  “Seriously, Yuuri, that’s crazy!  Are you writing Viktor Nikiforov fanfics now?”</p>
<p>Yuuri sighed.  “You don’t believe me,” he stated, feeling disappointed.  He knew it would be hard to convince him, but…</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri, take the necklace off.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t help himself from blanching, giving a horrified <em>“What?!</em>” out loud, much to Phichit’s confusion.</p>
<p>
  <em>You trust Phichit, right?  Take the necklace off and have him put it on.  Let me talk to him.</em>
</p>
<p>“…okay,” Yuuri reluctantly agreed, lifting the necklace over his head and holding it tightly in his hand.  It was incredible to think that he was holding the spirit of Viktor Nikiforov in his palm.  His idol, his…<em>one</em> of his best friends, his inspiration, his biggest supporter – Viktor suddenly felt incredibly fragile as a tiny metal star, a single diamond in the middle twinkling up at him.  “Phichit, you trust me, right?” Yuuri asked slowly, his eyes never leaving his necklace – <em>Viktor</em> – as he edged his way closer to the boards.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I’m not sure <em>you</em> trust <em>me</em>,” Phichit countered.</p>
<p>“I do.  I trust you with my life, Phichit.  I trust you with…with my everything.  That’s why I want you to put my necklace on, okay?  Just for a minute.”</p>
<p>Phichit gave Yuuri a look of disbelief, but he held out his hand willingly.  “Alright, sure.”</p>
<p>“Please be careful with it,” Yuuri begged, placing the star in Phichit’s palm and watching the chain dangle towards the ground.</p>
<p>“Yuuri, it’s a <em>necklace.</em>  I bought it for you; I should know!”  Even as he said the words, though, Phichit was lifting the chain over his head with the utmost care.  When it rested against his chest, the silver and diamond sparkling in the rink lights, Phichit said, “See?  Just a necklace!  Nothing like Viktor Ni- <em>WHAT THE FUCK?!</em>”  Phichit was silent as Yuuri watched on with trepidation.  “What do you <em>mean</em> you’ve been skating as Yuuri?  You’re <em>coaching him</em>?  …an axel with a Tano?!  Only Viktor Nikiforov could do- <em>yes, I know that’s you!  </em>You’re<em> dead!</em>”</p>
<p>Yuuri observed the conversation with growing amusement – and suddenly, he was glad Viktor and he had been careful about speaking to each other in public if it looked this crazy to an outsider.</p>
<p>“You’re having him jump <em>quads</em> with both arms up?  You didn’t even do that!”  There was a pause, Phichit’s brow furrowing, then, “You had your programs planned for the next season <em>that early</em>?  You were going for a Rippon lutz <em>and</em> flip?  Are you <em>insane</em>?”</p>
<p>Yuuri chuckled.  He was so very tempted to tell Phichit that, no, Viktor wasn’t insane, but maybe Phichit was for talking to a spirit-</p>
<p>-but it seemed that Viktor beat him to it.  “I am <em>not insane!</em>  I’m talking to you, Viktor Nikiforov!  And sure, you’re dead but-”  Phichit’s eyes widened.  “Oh my god.  You’re Viktor Nikiforov, you’re dead, you’re <em>in this stupid necklace</em>, and you’ve been sharing a body with my roommate, who also happens to be your biggest fan.”</p>
<p>Blood rushed to Yuuri’s face.  He wasn’t too worried at first about blushing in front of Phichit until he remembered that Viktor was currently sharing <em>Phichit’s</em> body, which meant he could <em>see Yuuri.  </em>He rushed to cover his face, but it was too late.</p>
<p>“Viktor says you’re cute when you blush,” Phichit supplied.  Yuuri let out an embarrassing <em>eep!</em> and quickly crouched to his knees where Phichit and Viktor could no longer see him behind the boards.  “Yuuri?  Yuuri, seriously; this guy thinks you’re adorable.  He’s demanding to see you and your, and I quote, ‘unfairly beautiful face and glorious butt’ again.  He says he won’t let me give him back to you until he has.”  Just when Yuuri thought his cheeks couldn’t get any redder, his body decided to prove him wrong.  “Oh, c’mon, Yuuri.  He’s surely seen it all before, right?”</p>
<p>Yuuri froze.  Viktor saw out of his eyes, and although he certainly got distracted and seemed to doze off at times, that couldn’t have included <em>all</em> the times Yuuri got changed in the bathroom in front of the mirror or showered without taking his necklace off at the rink (because what if someone <em>took </em>it?) or stretched his tired muscles or- or-</p>
<p>He let out a groan of frustration.  Phichit was right.  Viktor surely <em>had </em>seen it all – or at least most of it – before, so what difference did it make if he was seeing it through Phichit’s eyes?</p>
<p>“Viktor says this is really good, actually!” Phichit babbled on.  “Viktor says to skate last season’s short program so he can actually <em>watch </em>it for once.”</p>
<p>Yuuri breathed for a moment, waiting to feel his face cooling off so he wouldn’t be as red as Viktor’s Carmen costume before he stood up again.  “Just for training purposes?  No ogling?”</p>
<p>“Definitely for training,” Phichit said with a grin, picking up Yuuri’s phone so he could find last season’s music while Yuuri glided into his starting position.  “Training, and a little ogling of that perky booty.”  Yuuri didn’t even have time to protest – Phichit already knew all his arguments.  “Yuuri, your man wants to see you skate-” and there was that blush again, back in full force, “-so skate your perky little booty off for the dream boat that is Viktor Nikiforov!”</p>
<p>Well, when it was put like that…</p>
<p>And if Yuuri gave the best performance of his short program he’d ever given, then it was solely because his coach was watching and <em>not</em> because he’d just been given the incentive he’d needed.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Like with every other event Yuuri had ever second-guessed in his life, his anxiety crashed back into him like a freight train that evening as his mind forced him to consider that <em>maybe Viktor didn’t like him like that </em>and <em>what if he’d embarrassed himself </em>and <em>what if-</em></p>
<p>The beach.  Yuuri was on the sand, the waves cresting over the toes of his sneakers lit by the gentle orange sunset.</p>
<p>How did he get here?</p>
<p>“Viktor?” Yuuri called out.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?  Are you okay?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri looked around, wondering the very same thing.  “I…I think so?  Did you want to take over for some reason?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Want to?  No, Yuuri; I got pushed here like I used to when you would get stressed before a competition.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri closed his eyes, feeling so stupid in the face of such an obvious answer.  “Oh.  I…that was me, then.  Sorry.”</p>
<p><em>Are you okay, Yuuri?</em> Viktor asked again, sounding incredibly worried.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Yuuri looked out at the sunset and let its warm light wash over him.  “It was just…my anxiety, you know?”</p>
<p><em>I figured as much.  That still doesn’t answer my question, though,</em> Viktor responded pointedly.</p>
<p>Swallowing hard, Yuuri thought about it for a minute.  “I’m mostly okay.  Just…embarrassed, and that seems to be what my anxiety feeds on best.  I <em>will</em> be okay, even if I’m not right now.”</p>
<p>Viktor was oddly silent, almost like he was thinking.  Normally, a quiet Viktor was a relief for Yuuri – it meant he didn’t have to worry about accidentally responding to something others couldn’t hear; now, though, it only served to let Yuuri’s anxiety offer him dozens of hypothetical reasons why Viktor didn’t like him and wouldn’t talk to him ever again.</p>
<p>Before Yuuri could ponder the meaning of the silence further, there was a knock on the door of his tiny beach shack.</p>
<p>“Uh, come in?” Yuuri said.</p>
<p>The door opened as if pulled by the sea breeze to reveal Viktor on the other side dressed in loose joggers, a plain black t-shirt, and a pair of simple sneakers.  It was the first time Yuuri had seen him without skates on since- well, since he was alive, and it hit Yuuri with a wave of nostalgia and sadness.</p>
<p>Yuuri bit his lip, looking around the beach – anywhere but at Viktor’s face, afraid that his embarrassment from this afternoon would rear its ugly head all over again.  “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>Viktor seemed to hesitate.  “I can leave, if you want?” he offered.</p>
<p>Eyes widening, Yuuri hastily ran over to the shack to reassure him.  “No, no!  You don’t have to go.  Just…<em>why</em> are you here, though?  Don’t you normally stay in your room?”</p>
<p>“You…you said you were only <em>mostly</em> okay.  A mostly-okay Yuuri isn’t good enough, and I just…”</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>.  Yuuri’s heart lurched, at a loss for words as he watched Viktor’s eyes flit between Yuuri and the skyline.</p>
<p>“Let’s skate,” Viktor said.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s brow furrowed.  “Now?  But it’s the middle of the night, and I need to sleep, and we really shouldn’t be abusing our rink privileges-”</p>
<p>“Not at Ciao Ciao’s rink,” Viktor quickly responded, and when did Viktor start calling Yuuri’s coach Ciao Ciao?  “The rink in my…room.  My rink, whatever you want to call it.  I hear the owner is happy to have guests at all hours of the day,” he said with a wink.</p>
<p>Yuuri gave a half chuckle, grateful that Viktor didn’t seem to hate him.  “Alright.  Sure; lead the way.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s rink, despite being a normal-looking rink the last time he’d been there, had dimmer lights that evening.  Instead of the harsh white fluorescents, softer yellow lights lit the rink, and small twinkle lights marked the boards.</p>
<p>“Much more conducive to calm, peaceful skating, don’t you think?” Viktor asked, stepping onto the ice as his sneakers shimmered into skates and waiting for Yuuri to don his own skates and join him.  “Now,” Viktor said, taking Yuuri’s hands in his own and skating backwards to lead them around the rink face to face, “what has you so anxious tonight?  I haven’t been kicked to the front like that in a long time.”</p>
<p>Yuuri looked down at his feet, feeling like all his worries were even more stupid than before – not that <em>knowing</em> his worries were stupid took away any of their power over him.</p>
<p>“Звезда моя, you can tell me anything.  I’m not going to leave you, and I won’t judge you,” Viktor promised.</p>
<p>“You will, though,” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p>“Yuuri…why would I ever judge you?  And even if I <em>did</em>,” Viktor said, hurrying to continue when Yuuri looked up with vague horror written all over his face, “you could just take off that stupid necklace and drop it into the ocean.  What’s stopping you from doing that?”</p>
<p>Yuuri knew <em>exactly </em>what it was – compassion, but more than that, it was the fact that this was <em>Viktor Nikiforov</em>.  No version of Yuuri could ever make the choice to remove him from the world.</p>
<p>“Now, звезда моя…tell me what’s on your mind.”</p>
<p>Viktor didn’t press any more than that.  When Yuuri was silent for a full minute longer, Viktor gently squeezed his hand and pulled him around the rink, still skating backwards so he could keep an eye on Yuuri.  The tension slowly started to ease from Yuuri’s shoulders as the soothing movements of crossover-crossover-glide began to wear away at his overwhelming thoughts.</p>
<p>“…you…you watched me skate,” Yuuri said, his voice just barely a whisper over the sound of their blades cutting through the ice.</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m watching you skate,” Viktor agreed slowly, his eyes never leaving Yuuri’s face.</p>
<p>Yuuri glanced up briefly, blushing when he noticed Viktor’s intent gaze.  “Not…now.  <em>Before</em>.  Earlier today, you watched me skate, and- did you really- did you-”</p>
<p>“Did I what, my Yuuri?”</p>
<p>“Did you really watch my butt the whole time?” Yuuri blurted out, then came to an abrupt stop.  Viktor’s hands slipped out of Yuuri’s as he glided to a stop a few feet away.</p>
<p>“Did I watch your butt?  Yes,” he answered honestly.</p>
<p>Yuuri brought his hands to his face.  “Oh no.”</p>
<p>“It’s quite a lovely butt, and…Yuuri, I don’t think you understand how much I adore you…and your perky little booty,” Viktor said with a wink that Yuuri missed.</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>,” Yuuri groaned.  “I’m so <em>stupid</em>…”</p>
<p>Yuuri could hear the sound of Viktor’s blades crossing the expanse of ice between them, then felt his hands gently rubbing at Yuuri’s forearms to coax his hands down from his eyes.  “Yuuri, you’re not stupid.  There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”</p>
<p>There were tears clouding Yuuri’s eyes as he looked unseeingly at Viktor’s chest.  “But you don’t like me like that, and Phichit made you watch, and-”</p>
<p>“Yuuri,” Viktor said soothingly, “Phichit didn’t <em>make</em> me do anything.  If I really didn’t want to do something, don’t you think you’d know?”  Yuuri nodded slowly.  “So why wouldn’t Phichit know?”</p>
<p>“But he’s so- so- ugh, he’s very impulsive and…kinda pushy when he wants to be, and-”</p>
<p>“I will admit that Phichit can be a bit…animated…but he’s nothing I can’t handle.  I was very excited to actually <em>see </em>you skate today.”</p>
<p>“But he made you…watch my butt,” Yuuri whispered.  “And you don’t like me like that, so it must have been horribly uncomfortable for you, and it’s all my fault, and- and-”  Yuuri’s lip quivered as he looked up into Viktor’s eyes.  “I’m <em>sorry</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor said slowly, “there is <em>nothing</em> for you to apologize for.  First of all, your best friend’s actions are out of your control.  Second, and most importantly…”  Viktor paused, brushing a hand up Yuuri’s arm and gently dragging his thumb across his cheek to wipe away the lingering tears.  “I don’t know how you could think I don’t like you <em>like that</em>, Yuuri Katsuki.  I told you: I utterly adore you, and…I’d be very lucky if you felt the same in return, but I am content to have you as my…”</p>
<p>“Your what?” Yuuri prompted, swallowing thickly.</p>
<p>“My student…my friend…my partner for as long as I stay like this.”</p>
<p>“And if…if there were more?”</p>
<p>“Then I would be the luckiest man alive- well, not alive, but…just the luckiest man to ever exist, I suppose.  <em>I adore you,</em> and I hope you might have even an inkling of those feelings in return.”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s jaw dropped.  He held his breath for a moment, his final tears still rolling down his cheeks and getting caught by Viktor’s hand.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to say anything, Yuuri, I just-”</p>
<p>“Of course I- Viktor, I adore you, too.  I don’t know where I’d be without you right now.”</p>
<p>Viktor was silent for a moment, and Yuuri began to grow worried that he’d said something he shouldn’t.  Before he could ask what was wrong, though, Viktor placed a gentle hand on Yuuri’s chest where the star pendant hung, even in their soul rooms.  “I know where I would be,” Viktor murmured.  “I wouldn’t be anywhere.  Yuuri, you’re…you’re two miracles for me: you’re giving me a life again, and…and you’re <em>you</em>, and I’m so grateful that I got to meet you.”</p>
<p>There were no words that Yuuri could have said that would have encompassed all his thoughts about that confession.  Yuuri tried to keep the sadness off his face, but he knew it must have still slipped through if Viktor’s own sorrowful expression was any indication.</p>
<p>Yuuri leaned forward, folding his arms tightly around Viktor’s back and tucking his face against Viktor’s strong chest.  <em>Even like this…even now, he’s still…still…nothing seems different,</em> Yuuri mused.  <em>His body here…nothing has changed; he looks the same as the day he…he…</em></p>
<p>One thing was different, though: the tears that dripped onto Yuuri’s hair weren’t his own, and Yuuri had never seen the living Viktor Nikiforov cry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Viktor's death and current existence bother him in more ways than Yuuri had realized.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was strange how easy it was to adjust to sharing your body with another person.  Changing places under normal circumstances came almost as easily to them as breathing, but it led to some odd occurrences on the ice during training.  For starters, slipping the other person into the front mid-jump or mid-spin often caused them to falter, but they were slowly growing used to it.  The switching was certainly helping Yuuri’s training as Viktor taught him new ways to move his muscles to fix the issues that had been plaguing him for years.</p>
<p>More surprising, though, was that other people <em>noticed</em>.</p>
<p>“You okay, Yuuri?” Phichit asked as he glided by, Viktor having just landed a quad flip to show Yuuri what a strong one should feel like.</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, why?” Viktor answered quickly.</p>
<p>Shrugging, Phichit cast him a dubious look.  “Your eyes look funny, that’s all.  Have you been crying or something?  They look lighter than normal.”</p>
<p>“…what?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, they almost look blue.  Huh, that’s weird.”  He paused, squinting at Yuuri’s face.  “You know, it’s almost like I’m <em>looking at someone else’s eyes</em>,” Phichit said meaningfully.</p>
<p><em>I bet they really </em>are <em>blue.  There must be a physical change with this, too,</em> Yuuri realized.  <em>Shit.  We’ll need to be more careful.</em></p>
<p>“Uh, must just be the cold?” Viktor offered, shrugging as he tried to play it off in case anyone else was listening to their conversation.</p>
<p>Phichit raised an eyebrow, clearly understanding what was <em>really </em>happening but deciding to play along as any good friend would.  “Weird.  So, what do you want for dinner?  I’m starving already, and we still have two more hours here!”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Late that night, Phichit was sequestered away in his room working on schoolwork, and Viktor had instructed Yuuri to pull up his programs from last season to see what they were working with as a foundation for this year.  Viktor’s commentary on Yuuri’s program was strictly technical, looking for areas where they could increase Yuuri’s scores and offering suggested layouts that could be easily adjusted throughout the season if Yuuri’s technical content grew.</p>
<p>Yuuri, on the other hand, was thoroughly embarrassed by watching himself skate.  “I hate it,” he muttered.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p>
<p>“It’s just…it’s so awkward, and it just reinforces all the things I did <em>wrong</em>,” Yuuri said with a sigh.  “Like…like <em>that</em>,” Yuuri continued, pausing his free program just after the step sequence and rewinding the video until the start of the element.  “I kept missing that one cluster when I skated it, and I never <em>did </em>get the speed up to what I’d hoped on the whole step sequence,” Yuuri muttered as he watched the footage back again.</p>
<p><em>Then do it now, </em>Viktor said.</p>
<p>“Like it would make any difference,” Yuuri said with a scoff.  “I’m no better than I was then.”  Yuuri sighed heavily.  “I feel like I’ve plateaued.  Like…what if this is as good as I’m going to get?  What if this is <em>it</em>?”</p>
<p><em>Don’t talk like that, Yuuri.  You have so much potential.  If you’ve plateaued, it’s just for a moment.  Think of it like…hmm…like you’re climbing a mountain, and you’ve stopped for a rest.  You need to something </em>more <em>before you can finish climbing to the heavens.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri was quiet, taking in Viktor’s words.  For a moment, he was struck by what a surreal life he was living now: his deceased idol was giving him a pep talk <em>in his head</em>.  It was pure insanity.</p>
<p><em>You can do this, Yuuri.  Why not now?  </em>Before Yuuri knew what was happening, Viktor had taken over, grabbing Yuuri’s skates and the keys to the rink and yelling to Phichit in Yuuri’s voice that he’d be back in a bit.</p>
<p>When they arrived at the rink a few blocks over, Viktor didn’t bother to turn on all the lights, just enough to illuminate the closest half of the rink.  He quickly put on Yuuri’s skates and took to the ice.</p>
<p>“Of course you can do it, Yuuri,” Viktor told him.  “This is <em>your </em>body, remember?  Watch what it can do.”  Viktor began humming the music to himself, starting a few seconds before the step sequence, and then he was off, moving Yuuri’s feet blurringly fast in the way Yuuri had only wished he could a few months ago.</p>
<p>Moments later, Yuuri was safely pushed to the front again, albeit a bit disoriented.  This was the longest Viktor had ever been in control while Yuuri watched.</p>
<p>
  <em>See?  If I can do it in your body, there’s no reason you can’t.</em>
</p>
<p>Scoffing, Yuuri said, “Yes, but you’ve got a few years of experience over me.”</p>
<p><em>Not really</em>, Viktor interrupted.</p>
<p>Yuuri paused.  “Sure you do.  You’re, what, 26 now?  And I’m-”</p>
<p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri blinked owlishly in the middle of the rink.  “Huh?”</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m 24.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri was already shaking his head.  “What?  No, Viktor.  It’s been <em>two years</em> since you died, so-”</p>
<p>
  <em>I haven’t aged, Yuuri.</em>
</p>
<p>“…what?”</p>
<p>
  <em>I didn’t even exist for…well, until you picked me up, really.  And now?  I’ve been with you for months, and I still haven’t aged.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri’s brow furrowed as he stared into the dark half of the rink in front of him.  “What do you mean?”</p>
<p><em>I can feel it.  I just…stopped.  I’m the same, Yuuri.  You grow and change, but I don’t.  I’m still the 24-year-old Russian skater only one free program away from becoming World Champion again, and…then I failed.  </em>Viktor’s voice cracked on the last word, and it tugged sharply at Yuuri’s heart.</p>
<p>“Because you <em>died</em>, Viktor,” Yuuri reminded him.</p>
<p><em>Gee, thanks; I hadn’t realized</em>, Viktor responded dryly, his words having more bite than he intended.  Yuuri felt the equivalent of a mental sigh as all the fight left Viktor at once.  <em>I…I’m sorry, Yuuri.  I shouldn’t have said that.  I just…</em></p>
<p>“You didn’t get to say goodbye.  You can’t move on.”</p>
<p><em>…exactly</em>.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p><em>It’s not </em>your<em> fault.  You didn’t even know me before…before this.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri was tempted to argue; in a way, Yuuri had always known Viktor Nikiforov.  He’d known him in the way his smile was a little less bright the second the cameras were off him, in the way his most genuine Instagram posts were always about Makkachin.  He could tell you when Viktor was still nursing an injury by the way his ankle and knee were just <em>slightly</em> stiffer on a landing and when he was about to have the performance of a lifetime by the fire in his eyes.</p>
<p>But did Yuuri know <em>Viktor</em>?</p>
<p>“I know you now,” Yuuri said instead.  “I know you, Viktor, and…I’m sorry that your life didn’t go the way it should have.”</p>
<p><em>Should is a strong word, Yuuri.  Everyone had different ‘shoulds’ for my life; I should have won, I should have lived, I should have </em>stayed in the hotel room that night and not gone out alone<em> – but if I always did what I should have, I wouldn’t be where I am, and…I’ll learn to be okay with this in the same way I learned each new jump.  It’ll feel awkward, and then it’ll feel okay, and then one day, it’ll feel as easy as breathing.  And with you, Yuuri…I think I’ll be okay soon enough.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(I don't want to call this a filler chapter, but it feels like a filler chapter to me...I promise, there is a point to this later!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A bit of that promised wholesome romance with a side of doubtful Yuuri and stressed Viktor.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You guys are getting a whole bunch of chapters tonight! (Mostly, it just happened that these were all shorter chapters that only needed very light editing.  Yay!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Celestino had certainly noticed Yuuri’s improvement on the ice.  He marveled each day at the changes in Yuuri’s technique, his new-found surety with elements that had once caused him stress, but where Celestino noticed even the most microscopic of movements on the ice, he was less observant off it – usually, that is.</p>
<p>“Did you get contacts?” Celestino asked, squinting at Yuuri’s face.</p>
<p>“Wha- huh?” Viktor asked, looking over to the wall just as he shoved Yuuri to the front.</p>
<p>“That’s weird…” Celestino murmured, studying Yuuri’s face.  Shrugging, he said, “Must just be the lights.  I think they replaced some of those old bulbs last weekend.”  Chuckling to himself, he added, “Or maybe I’m just getting old.”</p>
<p>“You’re not getting old!” Yuuri immediately protested.</p>
<p>“That’s very kind, Yuuri, but everyone in the world knows I was in my prime in the 80s when a couple of flawless triple axels nearly guaranteed you a gold medal.  If that doesn’t tell you how ancient I am…”  Celestino winked, then looked back at the notes he’d been making about his skaters’ practice.</p>
<p><em>If only</em>… Yuuri heard Viktor murmur in his mind, and he felt the pang of longing course through his body.</p>
<p>Yuuri was confused for a moment what could trigger such a response until he recalled the conversation they’d had the other day.  <em>Viktor wasn’t aging</em>.  He desperately wished they weren’t surrounded by people so he could comfort Viktor, tell him that…that…</p>
<p>He didn’t even know <em>what</em> he would tell him; Yuuri just wanted Viktor to feel better.  He wanted to make things as easy for him as possible and eventually help Viktor…say goodbye?  Move on?</p>
<p>That’s what <em>Viktor</em> wanted, Yuuri thought to himself, but Yuuri wanted to keep him <em>here</em>.</p>
<p>He scolded himself.  <em>That’s selfish.  You can’t just keep a spirit trapped in some…</em>half-life prison<em> because you want him here.  That’s not fair to Viktor.  He doesn’t deserve to exist like this forever.</em></p>
<p>Without words to comfort Viktor, Yuuri settled for the next best thing and sent a wave of warm calmness back to him.</p>
<p>The man was quiet for the rest of the day.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Unable to sleep that night, Yuuri slipped his way into his own soul room, sitting for a moment on the warm sand as he watched the perpetual waves lap at the shore.</p>
<p>Viktor had said he was slowly getting comfortable with Yuuri, with the life – existence – he now had.  Yuuri wanted to believe him, but…if Yuuri were a dead almost-World-Champion-yet-again, he wasn’t sure he could ever accept a half-life stuck as someone’s parasite.  Given some of Viktor’s comments, too, Yuuri wasn’t sure Viktor really <em>was</em> accepting of his new life – or at least nothing more than grudging contentment.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Viktor murmured, his voice carrying across the near-silent beach.</p>
<p>Twisting around, Yuuri saw Viktor peering through the door of the shack.  “Hi,” Yuuri returned, feeling like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have for wondering if Viktor was <em>truly</em> happy.</p>
<p>“Do you want to come skate?”</p>
<p><em>Does he wish he could skate with me in real life? </em>Yuuri wondered.  <em>Is this dream-skating enough for him?</em></p>
<p>“Sure,” Yuuri said, though, smiling as brightly as he could manage as he made his way across the shifting sand.</p>
<p>There was a stark contrast between their two soul rooms: Yuuri’s was warm with gentle breezes and soft waves providing just enough movement and sound to keep his anxiety quiet.  It was always stuck with the sun half in the sky, somewhere between the beginning of a new day and the end of another.</p>
<p>Viktor’s rink, though…the ice was the center of the room just as skating had been the center of Viktor’s life.  The benches, the doors, the windows: they were all very structured, perfectly functional but otherwise uninviting.  The energy in the room always seemed to change when Viktor was on the ice.  Instead of being a location, a mere tool for Yuuri and Viktor’s use, it became a backdrop, allowing all the focus to be on Viktor as he skated.</p>
<p>Viktor, later, would have the same thoughts from the boards as he watched Yuuri move through different pieces of choreography, some that he recognized from Yuuri’s older programs, a step sequence from the past season, even a choreographic sequence from one of Viktor’s own programs.  Despite what should have been disjointed elements, their original programs vastly different from one another, Yuuri melded them into a work of art worthy of a champion.</p>
<p>“<em>Beautiful</em>,” Viktor murmured.  Yuuri shouldn’t have been able to hear him halfway across the rink – but then again, he shouldn’t have a dead man sharing his body, either.  “My beautiful star.”</p>
<p>The words weren’t meant for Yuuri’s ears, especially judging by the way Viktor blushed when Yuuri made eye contact with him.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>Viktor seemed at a loss for words, gaping at the skater who was slowly gliding closer to him.  “I- it means-”</p>
<p>“Yes?” Yuuri prompted, his curiosity now holding an edge of teasing.  Yuuri could be an anxious mess, but he wasn’t stupid – he had an idea of what, logically, Viktor had meant.  Logic said Viktor might be falling for him, just like Yuuri was falling for Viktor.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s heart didn’t dare hope, though.</p>
<p>“It means-”  Viktor’s words cut off with a quiet gasp as Yuuri came to a stop with his body pressed right against the boards.  Viktor was only inches away on the other side looking like he’d just seen a ghost.  “May I kiss you, Yuuri?”</p>
<p>Yuuri could only nod, standing frozen as Viktor leaned even closer until he could feel the warmth of his breath against his face.</p>
<p>And the warmth – maybe that was what made it so special for Yuuri.  Here, he could <em>touch</em> Viktor.  He could assure himself that he wasn’t insane, that Viktor was <em>real</em>, through his fingertips and his lips and the way Viktor’s hands felt tracing patterns along Yuuri’s sides and cupping the back of his neck.  He could feel Viktor, a warm, corporeal, <em>living </em>form against his body rather than just a fleeting voice in his mind that constantly critiqued his skating.</p>
<p>“What would I do without you?” Viktor murmured without really meaning to.</p>
<p>And Yuuri thought, <em>hoped</em>, that Viktor meant that romantically, but he couldn’t help a lingering doubt that Viktor meant Yuuri’s <em>body</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Quick note 2/11/21: The incredibly talented HikaruSoraSatoNakamura made some absolutely beautiful fan art that goes with this chapter!  Please take a second and go see it <a href="https://twitter.com/HikaSora1/status/1349557020001619968?s=19m">over here</a> on their Twitter and leave some love!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri and Viktor engage in a fluffy moment, but good things can't last forever.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So Yuuri, what ideas do you have for programs for the upcoming season?”</p>
<p>Yuuri knew this conversation was coming – it always did this time of year, and every year, he dreaded it.  He never felt sure in his music selections, and he trusted Celestino’s judgement enough to just choose <em>for </em>him.  In Yuuri’s opinion, it was a useless conversation.</p>
<p>“I haven’t found anything that really speaks to me,” he said instead, watching as Celestino frowned.</p>
<p>“I had hoped you might have found something this year…well, I found a piece for your short program that I’d like you to try.  What about the free?  Any ideas?  Themes you might like to use?”</p>
<p>Yuuri sighed.  “Can I just reuse my free program from this past season?  It was good enough to win me a small medal at Worlds, and I’d like to see if it can grow any further.”  That wasn’t the <em>real</em> reason he wanted to use the free, though.  Mainly, he was lacking inspiration, and his free program was…comfortable.</p>
<p>The excuse seemed to be convincing enough for his coach, though.  He nodded, smiling at Yuuri.  “I think that’s a good idea.  As for the short, I’ll send you the song I found tonight – it’s from a musical.  I’m thinking it will really help you work on emoting on the ice.”</p>
<p>Yuuri hummed thoughtfully.  “Which musical?”</p>
<p>“Ghost,” Celestino answered.</p>
<p>Almost immediately, Yuuri’s mind was filled with the echoing of Viktor’s uncontrollable laughter, leaving Yuuri very confused.  “What’s it about?”</p>
<p>“It’s based on a movie,” his coach explained.  “It’s a thriller with some romance; the main character’s boyfriend died, but he doesn’t move on to the other side.  He’s speaking to her throughout the song you’ll be using for your program.”</p>
<p>It was immediately clear to Yuuri precisely what Viktor had found so hysterical.  Yuuri had to resist the urge to laugh, too, because <em>he</em> actually had a functioning body, and Celestino would have heard it.  Instead, he took a second to compose himself before saying, “Oh.  That sounds…interesting.”  And if his lips twitched just the slightest bit while he spoke, Celestino didn’t notice.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you think so!  We can start working on the choreography next week.  We’ll run your free program this week and decide what we want to change and polish for next season, and you can start listening to the music for the short program ahead of time.”</p>
<p>It was only when Yuuri was safely back in his own room that he finally let out his laughter, hearing Viktor’s mirth once again in his mind.</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t think he could have picked a better program for you if he tried.</em>
</p>
<p>“I don’t think <em>you</em> could have, either, and you’re the dead spirit that refuses to move on!” Yuuri countered!</p>
<p><em>If you don’t get high marks for interpretation of the music for </em>this <em>piece, nobody should</em>.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri’s restless mind kept him awake once more, and he opted to let his thoughts run themselves out on the ice in Viktor’s room.  Although not the best strategy, Yuuri had always handled his insomnia by making himself so tired he couldn’t do anything <em>but</em> sleep.  Normally, though, Yuuri didn’t have anyone to tell him to stop.  When Yuuri’s legs trembled with exhaustion (Yuuri wondered if his <em>actual</em> body would hurt in the morning, too), Viktor decided that Yuuri had trained enough.</p>
<p>“I think two grueling skating sessions in one day is plenty,” Viktor remarked as he waited just off the ice.  As Yuuri glided nearer, Viktor held out an open palm, which Yuuri gingerly took as he stepped out of the rink.  “I could happily watch you all day, though.  I’d never get tired of that,” he murmured, drawing Yuuri closer until they were almost nose to nose.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s breathing hitched as he took in their position.  “I- I could say the same,” he stammered.</p>
<p>Running his hands up either side of Yuuri’s torso, Viktor grinned.  “If this is to be my afterlife…I’m not complaining one bit.”</p>
<p>Yuuri smiled warmly at him for a moment, only to gasp a second later.  Quirking an eyebrow, Viktor asked, “Ticklish?”</p>
<p>“Wha- no, of course not!”  But Yuuri’s lie couldn’t cover the increasing evidence Viktor seemed to be finding every time his fingers traced another lap along Yuuri’s ribs.  “Viktor- <em>Viktor!</em>  No, stop it!” Yuuri pleaded through his laughter, trying to protect his sides as Viktor continued his merciless assault.  “<em>Please!</em>”</p>
<p>Yuuri finally squirmed away from Viktor, narrowly missing stumbling over the small step that separated him from the ice.  Viktor grasped at Yuuri’s waist to keep him upright, freezing as soon as Yuuri was stable once more.  They were so close that Yuuri could feel Viktor’s breath like a gentle breeze on his face, warm and tantalizing, and if Yuuri moved his head just a <em>tiny bit more</em>-</p>
<p>But Viktor was already leaning down to meet him.  He paused for a moment, looking uncertain.  “Yuuri?  Can I…that is, would you mind if I…?”</p>
<p><em>Please kiss me again.  Please, please,</em> <em>don’t make me wait any longer,</em> ran in circles in Yuuri’s mind.  Aloud, he said breathlessly, ”<em>Please.</em>”</p>
<p>Viktor swooped closer, their lips meeting hardly a second after Yuuri gave his permission.  Viktor leant heavily on Yuuri, his weight shifting all at once.  Yuuri, his mind filled with nothing but <em>Viktor</em>, didn’t have time to adjust or brace himself, and both men went sprawling over the edge of the ice.  If it weren’t for Viktor’s quick reflexes, Yuuri’s head would have made contact with the hard surface; instead, it was cradled safely in Viktor’s palm.</p>
<p>Using his free hand to push himself off Yuuri’s chest, Viktor leaned back and frantically searched the other man for any sign of injury.  “Yuuri?  Oh, I’m so sorry…I got distracted, and I wasn’t paying attention to where we were, and-”</p>
<p>Yuuri smiled, quickly easing Viktor’s worries.  “I fall on the ice daily because, for some strange reason, I think it’s smart to test the full extent of gravity every once in a while.  I’d <em>much </em>rather fall because…”  Rather than voicing the <em>because</em>, Yuuri blushed a fierce red.</p>
<p>Viktor grinned, carefully sliding his hand out from beneath Yuuri’s head to caress his cheek.  “Oh, my beautiful star…I’d much rather fall this way, too.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>In the morning, Yuuri would smile for a fleeting moment at the thought of their bodies falling to the ice mid-kiss.  He <em>really</em> should have been more careful.</p>
<p>Especially with his heart.</p>
<p>Although Viktor was sharing his body and currently existed as a spirit, there was no other way to say it: Viktor was dead.  Regardless of the feelings Yuuri felt for Viktor, no matter how deep-seated they were, there would always be an intangible barrier between them.  They could only exist as a couple in Yuuri’s mind; they couldn’t <em>really</em> be together.</p>
<p>That thought tinged Yuuri’s practices for the next few weeks.  He gratefully accepted every crumb of praise from Viktor, every charming comment one would expect from, dare he say it, a boyfriend, but the bright feelings soon faded into sadness.</p>
<p>How long could he stay like this?  How long could he keep Viktor here?</p>
<p>If there was one good thing to come from Yuuri’s despondency, it was the improvements in his short program.  <em>Ghost</em> had been appropriate before – now that he longed for Viktor, longed to keep him by his side and love him forever, Yuuri felt himself growing more connected to the music, and it showed in his performances.</p>
<p>Celestino said as much.  “I don’t know what you’re been doing off ice, but that was the best run through yet!”</p>
<p>“But Coach,” Yuuri protested, “I stepped out of my combination, and I faltered going into that spin-”</p>
<p>Celestino waved away his arguments.  “Those are things we can fix – flukes, honestly, given your last few practices.  Your <em>performance</em>, though – you’ve really given yourself over to the music.  It’s looking <em>very </em>impressive.”</p>
<p><em>We’ll work on those elements more,</em> Viktor promised.</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed hard.  “Thanks,” he said to both of them.</p>
<p>Deep down, Yuuri wished his performance <em>hadn’t</em> gotten better; he wished he weren’t trying to hold onto a man who would inevitably disappear from his life.  It felt like he was holding ice in his hands, desperately fighting to keep it from melting.</p>
<p>And trying to balance his growing feelings with Viktor’s wishes…</p>
<p>It felt like falling for him was just making the ice melt that much faster.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yuuri's short program music is Unchained Melody from Ghost (Specifically, the track on Spotify from 2011 - "Unchained Melody (Dance)/The Love Inside").  I chose this for him because 1) it's a great song and works well for figure skating programs and 2) THE  I R O N Y of Celestino choosing it for him and NOT KNOWING Viktor's there okay?  I'm just over here cackling to myself.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri has his first competition of the season, but Viktor oversteps his bounds.  Yuuri's reaction could ruin everything.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would like to apologize in advance for the feels trip that is this chapter...I'm a tiny bit sorry. &lt;333</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before they knew it, the season had officially begun.  Yuuri was entered into one event of the Challenger series and was using the competition as a test run of his programs.  Celestino flew with him the short distance to Canada for the week, all the while Viktor was excitedly rambling in Yuuri’s mind about how he couldn’t wait to finally be at a competition again now that Yuuri <em>knew</em> he was there.</p>
<p>Practice went about as well as could be expected.  There were some falls and some perfectly landed jumps, but most elements fell somewhere in the middle – average, just like Yuuri.  Viktor occasionally took over Yuuri’s body, but he was cautious to do it in such a way that Celestino wouldn’t suspect anything – especially since he’d already noticed the change in Yuuri’s eyes once.</p>
<p>Leading up to the short program, Yuuri was nervous, but he wasn’t <em>terrified </em>like he had been in the past.  Maybe it was his training, maybe it was Viktor – who knew?  He took the ice calmly – not confidently as Viktor would have, but also not with trembling legs like he had only a few months ago.</p>
<p>The program began, and Yuuri let himself fall into the music.  A spin first, then he was flying across the ice to gain speed for his first jumping pass, a quadruple flip combination.  He turned, picking into the ice – but it wasn’t right.  He landed too early, his foot turning the last quarter of a rotation on the ice and shifting all his weight onto the back of his blade.  He couldn’t balance, and his hands met the ice.  It would be considered a fall with the judges, and he’d lose many points for that one error.</p>
<p>And then Yuuri wasn’t the one skating anymore.</p>
<p>Yuuri watched as the program progressed, the triple axel just as flawless as the quad toe-triple toe loop combination that followed it late in the second half of the program.  The step sequence would easily earn a level four, even if it wasn’t <em>quite</em> as fluid as Yuuri would have skated it.  The program was soon over – but Yuuri hadn’t been the one to finish it.</p>
<p>Yuuri saw the scores come up like he was watching through a window: 93.14, not too bad considering the fall.  With the weaker field of skaters at the competition, it easily put him into first place by 10 points, and Celestino patted Yuuri’s body firmly on the back.</p>
<p>They were moving, heading to the athlete’s area so Yuuri could change out of his costume.  The curtains closed behind them, and suddenly Yuuri was <em>Yuuri</em> again.</p>
<p>And Yuuri?  He was <em>pissed</em>.</p>
<p>He held it in well, managing to restrain himself from yelling at Viktor until they got back to the hotel and Celestino had left for a bit of sightseeing so Yuuri could have some quiet rest time.  It would be anything but quiet, though.</p>
<p>“What the <em>hell</em>, Viktor?” Yuuri raged.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri…</em>
</p>
<p>But a half-conversation wasn’t good enough for Yuuri.  He needed to <em>see </em>Viktor, to make sure he understood exactly how much he’d <em>hurt</em> Yuuri by not trusting him to <em>skate his own damn program.</em>  Taking a deep breath, Yuuri leaned back on the bed while he shut his eyes and followed the pull to his soul room, running through the door of the small beach shack and bursting into Viktor’s ice rink without even a moment’s hesitation.</p>
<p>He found the man gliding aimlessly around the ice.  Viktor’s eyes widened in surprise at Yuuri’s abrupt appearance – it had only been a few seconds since Yuuri had spoken to him, and he hadn’t expected him to invade his space so quickly.</p>
<p>“Why, Viktor?  Why did you <em>do </em>that?” Yuuri pressed, his expression crumbling with every heartbroken word.</p>
<p>“But Yuuri…”  It was the genuine confusion and concern in Viktor’s voice that made Yuuri even angrier.</p>
<p>“I could <em>handle</em> it, Viktor!  I competed for <em>years </em>before you were here,” he spat.  “I’ve fallen before, and I <em>always</em> get up again.  A mistake doesn’t stop me from finishing my program, and it wouldn’t have today, either.”</p>
<p>Viktor looked distressed.  “But you don’t know that!  What if it had gotten into your head and the rest of the program went the same way?  How would you feel going into the free skate of the first competition of the season needing to <em>fight</em> to get on the podium?  And if the free skate didn’t pull you up, what would you do then?  What would your Federation do if-”</p>
<p>“I don’t <em>care</em> what the Federation thinks, Viktor!” Yuuri exclaimed, though he would later look back and realize those words were patently untrue.  “I care that you didn’t <em>trust </em>me!  You didn’t think I could do it, so you just took over!”</p>
<p>“Yuuri, I thought-”</p>
<p>“You thought <em>wrong</em>!  I <em>know</em> that I’m not as good as you, but I don’t need you to fight my battles for me – I don’t need you to skate my programs for me anymore.”  Yuuri stared Viktor in the eyes, his gaze cold and unyielding.  “I don’t need you, Viktor,” Yuuri hissed.  Viktor physically recoiled, looking as if Yuuri had physically slapped him across the face despite the distance between them.  Yuuri was struck by Viktor’s expression – the former World Champion had never looked so lost on the ice before.</p>
<p>“Yuuri, I just-”</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed hard, looking anywhere but Viktor’s face.  “I don’t want to hear it.”  As the words left his mouth, he realized he didn’t <em>have </em>to stay there – he might have to <em>hear</em> Viktor, but he didn’t need to <em>see</em> him.  He pulled himself back out into the real world, firmly shutting Viktor’s door.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri, please</em>-</p>
<p>“Go away, Viktor.”  Yuuri needed to be stern for once.  “Stop talking to me.”</p>
<p>
  <em>But Yuuri-</em>
</p>
<p>“I said go <em>away</em>.  I don’t need you!”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri-</em>
</p>
<p>“Get out of my head – get out, get <em>out</em>!  This is <em>my body.  </em>Leave me alone!” Yuuri screamed, his sobs finally escaping.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri, please-</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>GO AWAY!</em>”  The words were accompanied by a very forceful <em>push</em> that sent Viktor spiraling – to where, neither of them knew.</p>
<p>But when Yuuri would investigate ten minutes later, hiccupping through his regret and subsiding tears, he would find that Viktor was gone.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>When Celestino returned, Yuuri was silent.  The rage had left him, and all he felt was emptiness.</p>
<p>Maybe that’s because he <em>was</em> empty.  He couldn’t find Viktor anywhere; he’d tried searching for Viktor in his soul room, but he wasn’t there – the <em>door</em> wasn’t even there.  In its place was a boarded-up opening painted black, no golden ice skate or doorhandle in sight.  Yuuri futilely searched his own soul room, but the beach was empty.  He even walked down the hallway, but he only succeeded in getting himself lost in a maze of never-ending corridors.</p>
<p>There was only one logical conclusion: Viktor was well and truly gone.</p>
<p>Then came the guilt.  Viktor had been dead, but Yuuri had allowed him to share his body and gave Viktor some access to the living world.  He’d promised Viktor he’d tell him before he made him go away again, before he made him <em>really </em>leave for good, but Yuuri had broken that promise.  Viktor Nikiforov was dead – and <em>Viktor</em> was gone.</p>
<p>Yuuri wasn’t sure if Viktor had permanently moved on or if he’d just locked him in the necklace somehow – he wasn’t sure which was worse, honestly.  What would <em>Yuuri</em> prefer?  To be well and truly dead or to be an echo of a spirit trapped forever in a stupid star necklace with no way out?</p>
<p>He knew his answer: being trapped would be a fate worse than death, maybe even worse than having a career-ending injury – or dying like Viktor.</p>
<p>With the boarded-up doorway still there in his mind, Yuuri didn’t think there was any way Viktor could have moved on.  The only logical conclusion was that he must be trapped – and <em>Yuuri </em>had caused that.  He’d trapped Viktor Nikiforov, the greatest skater to ever take the ice; he’d locked <em>Viktor</em>, his best friend, coach, and lov- <em>best friend and coach</em> away because he’d gotten angry.</p>
<p>And maybe Viktor should have trusted him more with the competition – okay, Viktor <em>definitely</em> should have trusted him more, but he didn’t deserve…<em>this</em>.  And now…</p>
<p>Now, Yuuri was alone.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>The hollow feeling in his head was still there the next morning.  When he awoke to his blaring alarm, he tried to wish Viktor good morning, only to remember that Viktor was gone.  <em>Yuuri </em>had pushed him away, and he hadn’t come back.</p>
<p>Yuuri went through his morning routine mechanically, somehow making it through brushing his teeth and dressing for practice, arriving at the rink with hardly a memory of how he’d gotten there.  Celestino had ushered him onto the ice, Yuuri’s body moving through his standard warm up of its own accord.  His coach – his <em>real </em>coach because Viktor <em>still hadn’t come back – </em>had him practicing his jumps.</p>
<p>It didn’t go well.</p>
<p>Yuuri was too lost in his thoughts, desperately trying to will Viktor back into his mind and body from wherever it was he was trapped.  With each passing minute, Yuuri was slowly becoming more aware of the possibility that Viktor might never come back.</p>
<p>Fall.</p>
<p>He landed hard on his hip, having failed to turn in time to fall on his butt instead.  Yuuri hissed at the pain, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to his feet again.</p>
<p>“Yuuri, maybe that’s enough for now.  You have your free skate this afternoon,” Celestino cautioned him.</p>
<p>“But-”  Yuuri wanted to protest, to tell his coach that skating felt like it was the <em>only</em> chance he had to bring Viktor back, but how would <em>that</em> go over?  With a sigh, he said, “Maybe you’re right.”  He stepped off the ice, Celestino’s arms there to offer support as Yuuri briefly put his full weight onto his right leg, wincing with the movement.</p>
<p>Celestino looked worried as he handed Yuuri his skate guards.  “Do you think you’ll be able to compete today?”</p>
<p>Yuuri bit back another hiss as his weight shifted again, and he nodded firmly.  “Yes, Coach.”  He needed to skate; he needed to make this right.</p>
<p>He needed – no, he <em>wanted</em> – Viktor back.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri skated his free program despite the ache in his hip, every landing jostling it again.  He didn’t care, though; every movement, every reach of his fingertip was a yearning for Viktor, Viktor, <em>Viktor</em> to come back.  At the end of the program, one awkward landing having forced him to fall to the ice and bump his right hip again, Yuuri was still alone.</p>
<p>The program certainly wasn’t perfect – Yuuri had been in pain and distracted, and his component scores reflected that.  Nevertheless, his score of 183.18 was enough to land him in first for the free program and first overall.  In all honesty, he was just lucky that the other skaters had worse days than he had – at least on the ice.</p>
<p>What could be worse than losing Viktor?</p>
<p>The trip home was hell.  Celestino wanted to celebrate Yuuri’s win, but Yuuri just wanted to wallow in his well-deserved guilt.  Viktor still wasn’t back by the time the plane landed in Detroit, and he wasn’t back when Yuuri went to sleep that night, safely tucked in his own bed with the poster of Viktor looking down on him.  The following morning, Yuuri’s mind was still hollow, and it was the same way the day after when he returned to the ice.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I said I was sorry...how are your feels doing?  Hanging in there?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri has tried everything to get Viktor back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Viktor had been gone for two weeks - t<em>wo weeks</em> – and Yuuri was left all alone skating to that damned piece of music about reaching out to your dead lover without Viktor there to reach back.</p>
<p>Yuuri had tried everything – he’d skated and skated, prayed, cried, taken down Viktor’s posters in an attempt to aggravate the man (then cried some more as he put them back up), even watched all of Viktor’s performances again while making the most outlandish critiques possible in hopes of infuriating the man.  None of it had worked.  Viktor was well and truly gone.</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t help it; his knees grew weak, trembling until all he could do was collapse to the ice.  He thanked his lucky stars that the rink was empty at this hour of the night.  How else would he have explained this?  He would have needed to write it off as a panic attack.  He couldn’t explain to Celestino or his training mates or the janitor that <em>the dead spirit of a figure skating World Champion that inhabits his body disappeared</em> – well, maybe Phichit would understand, but Yuuri would have felt doubly guilty if Phichit knew it was Yuuri’s fault that Viktor was gone <em>again.</em>  If he tried to explain this to anyone else, though, he’d be sent home for a week by Celestino, or worse, he’d be sent to the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation.</p>
<p>His tears came suddenly, flowing freely down his cheeks as his sobs echoed through the empty rink.  Without his glasses on, Yuuri couldn’t tell the difference between the flakes of ice and snow beneath his knees and the tears that dripped from his face and splashed on the ground.  What difference did it make, anyway?  The ice and his tears and <em>himself</em> – they were all alone, frozen and left behind.</p>
<p>Once his tears had slowed down, his sobs subsiding to the occasional sniffle, Yuuri pushed himself to his feet and looked around the empty rink.  It felt more than just empty: it felt hollow, just like Yuuri.  Without Viktor’s spirit, Yuuri didn’t know what to do.  And with the added guilt…</p>
<p>He didn’t know how he could keep skating.  He didn’t <em>deserve </em>to skate on any ice knowing he’d lost Viktor.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri </em>had been the one to push Viktor away, to remove the last visage of the beautiful skater from the world.  How could he deserve to keep skating after doing something as selfish as that?</p>
<p>He wanted Viktor <em>back</em>.  He <em>needed</em> Viktor back for himself and for everyone around him.  Viktor hadn’t deserved to die so young; he deserved to live, to <em>skate</em>, and Yuuri would let him use his body as much as he wanted to do just that – if only he’d come <em>back</em>, dammit!</p>
<p>Without Yuuri realizing it, he had started to move around the rink, his mind so filled with thoughts of <em>Viktor</em> that he naturally began to fall into the familiar choreography of Viktor’s last free program, his excessive knowledge of all things Viktor Nikiforov reminding him that it was the program Viktor never got to skate at his last World Championships.</p>
<p>And god, it was a beautiful program – beautifully heartbreaking.  It was full of longing, of reaching for someone and begging them not to leave, pleading for them to, “<em>Stay close to me, Viktor, please come back</em>,” and if Yuuri’s lips were moving as he skated, then he certainly wasn’t conscious of the action.  Each jump, each spin, each twizzle across the ice, every stretch of a finger was a prayer for Viktor to come back so Yuuri didn’t have to be <em>alone</em> again.</p>
<p>He didn’t notice it at first; it felt like his mind was swimming, too many thoughts all coalescing at once.  It was almost like his competition anxiety was making an appearance, but it never did at times like this – not when Yuuri was alone on the ice.</p>
<p>He ignored the odd feeling, but he shouldn’t have.  He landed a quad flip as the final jump of the program with a plea for Viktor to “<em>Come back, dammit, please come back,</em>” and glided into one last spin, only to hear a voice as he settled into the ending pose.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?</em>
</p>
<p>The skater was frozen in the middle of the ice, eyes wide in disbelief.  <em>No</em>, Yuuri thought to himself.  <em>It’s not real.  You’re just feeling guilty again.  It’s all your fault, you stupid, selfish-</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?</em>
</p>
<p>But it <em>was </em>real.  “Viktor,” Yuuri nearly sobbed in relief.  “You’re back!”</p>
<p>
  <em>I…I didn’t realize I’d left.</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, Viktor.  It’s all my fault,” Yuuri rushed to say through heaving breaths.  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that.  I should’ve-”</p>
<p>
  <em>Should’ve what?</em>
</p>
<p>“I should’ve just…let you skate.  I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you and- and-”  Yuuri’s breathing was coming quicker and quicker as he forced all his thoughts of the last two weeks out before Viktor could decide he didn’t want to listen anymore.</p>
<p>
  <em>I shouldn’t have taken over like that, Yuuri.  You were right to be angry.</em>
</p>
<p>“Not <em>that</em> angry.”</p>
<p><em>…perhaps not </em>that <em>angry, but I betrayed your trust.  That’s a very fragile thing.  I understand that now, my Yuuri, and if you want to…to take off the necklace…</em></p>
<p>“No!” Yuuri nearly screamed.  “No, Viktor.  I…I’ve been trying to get you <em>back </em>for weeks now.  Why would I want you to <em>leave</em> me again?”</p>
<p>
  <em>If you’re certain…?</em>
</p>
<p>“I am.  I didn’t mean to push you away; I really didn’t.  I just…I hope you’ll forgive me,” Yuuri whispered.</p>
<p>
  <em>We say and do things when we’re angry that we don’t mean.  There is nothing to forgive.  And…I hope you’ll give me another chance to show you that I trust your judgement.  I know you’re an incredible skater – I should let you prove that to yourself, too.</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em>,” Yuuri breathed.  “Please, stay with me.”</p>
<p><em>I’m not going anywhere,</em> Viktor promised, <em>not unless you want me to.  And…Yuuri…</em></p>
<p>Viktor had said Yuuri’s name many times in the months they’d been sharing a body, from the annoying, nagging tone he used when Yuuri wasn’t paying attention to him to the angry tone he saved for when Yuuri belittled himself to the fond tone he was starting to use with growing frequency.  But this…</p>
<p>This was a voice tinged with longing, with wistfulness for something that was gone and could never be retrieved.</p>
<p>“Viktor?” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p>
  <em>My free skate?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri tensed up.  “I…”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri…that was beautiful.</em>
</p>
<p>“…thank you.”</p>
<p>
  <em>What are you practicing it for?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri shook his head frantically.  “It’s nothing, Viktor.  You were <em>gone, </em>and I just…I didn’t know what else to do but skate.  I needed you to come <em>back </em>to me.  I won’t be skating this in public, don’t worry.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Why not?</em>
</p>
<p>“Why not?  Because it’s your free skate.  What would people say?  It’d have to be in an exhibition as a tribute to your life, and I could never do that knowing you’re still <em>here.  </em>I could never do it justice, anyway.”</p>
<p>
  <em>What about as a free skate?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri froze, eyes wide as he stared at the empty ice in front of him.  “What?”</p>
<p><em>Please.  Please, Yuuri.  I will beg you- forget that, I </em>am<em> begging you: use my free skate this season.</em></p>
<p>“I can’t do that!” Yuuri protested.</p>
<p><em>You can.  You </em>did<em> just now.  If it’s logistics you’re worried about, email Yakov.  I choreographed it myself, and I had the music commissioned specifically for this program.  It would be a shame to never see it performed again.  </em>Please<em>, звезда моя.  Please.</em></p>
<p>“Viktor…”</p>
<p>
  <em>Just think how much easier coaching you will be if I already know your free program inside and out.</em>
</p>
<p>That was an argument Yuuri really <em>couldn’t </em>find fault with.  “…okay.  For you, Viktor.  For you.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Convincing Yuuri to skate Viktor’s last program was one thing.  Yuuri would say yes to practically anything if Viktor asked just the right way (and he still hoped Viktor never figured that out).  Celestino, on the other hand…</p>
<p>The impending discussion was making Yuuri nervous.  He knew his coach would listen to his suggestion, but would he approve of the change, especially when the season had already begun?  “Coach?  I…I had an idea for a free program.”</p>
<p>Celestino’s eyebrows raised.  “But Yuuri, I thought you wanted to reuse your program from last season?”</p>
<p>“I do…I did,” he amended.  “That was before, though.  I’ve found something that inspires me more, and…I’m hoping you can help me.”</p>
<p>Celestino frowned.  “It’s a little late to be choreographing a new program, Yuuri…”</p>
<p>Yuuri shook his head.  “It doesn’t need choreographing.  I…I want to skate Viktor Nikiforov’s free skate – the one from his last season.  <em>Stammi Vicino</em>.  I want that to be my free this season.”  When Celestino’s expression hadn’t changed, Yuuri added, “I want to make it a tribute to him.”</p>
<p>After a long moment of contemplation, Celestino finally spoke.  “Yuuri, this is <em>very</em> unusual.  In fact, I don’t know that <em>anyone</em> has ever skated exactly the same program as another skater – at least not on the senior level, and <em>certainly</em> not outside the same training camp.”</p>
<p>“I know.  This is important to me, though, and I’d like you to reach out to Coach Feltsman to ask for his permission to use the music and the choreography.  The choreography was Viktor’s, and it would be a shame if it never saw the ice again,” Yuuri said, using Viktor’s own words in an effort to convince his coach.</p>
<p><em>It certainly would,</em> Viktor agreed.</p>
<p>“If you really feel that strongly about it…”  Celestino eyed Yuuri carefully, then sighed.  “I’m sure I still have Yakov’s contact information somewhere.  I’ll send him a message and see what he thinks about the situation.”</p>
<p>Yuuri immediately grinned, and he was briefly tempted to hug his coach (but Celestino might think he was going even more insane than usual if he did that).  Instead, he settled for an enthusiastic, “Thank you!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Viktor and Yuuri discuss their situation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took four days for Celestino to get a response from Coach Feltsman.  Yuuri was growing more and more anxious by the minute as he felt training time slip away, each day growing closer to his first Grand Prix event.</p>
<p>“I hope Coach Feltsman says yes soon,” Yuuri said mostly to himself.</p>
<p><em>You can call him Yakov, Yuuri!  He’s as harmless as a teddy bear</em>, Viktor told him for the tenth time.</p>
<p>“Nope.  Can’t do that,” Yuuri muttered softly.  The rink was far from quiet, filled with Phichit’s usual boisterous chatter and the music of one of their training mate’s programs, but Yuuri didn’t want to make a spectacle out of talking to someone who didn’t appear to exist.</p>
<p>His distractedness must have been noticed, though, because Phichit gave him an odd look as they passed each other on the ice, and Celestino called him over to the boards.</p>
<p>“Yuuri…”</p>
<p>Yuuri sighed.  “Sorry, Coach.  I’ll try better to focus, it’s just-”</p>
<p>“I’ve heard back from Yakov.”  Viktor went still in Yuuri’s mind (how he could sense these things, he still wasn’t sure, but it came as easily to him as breathing).  “He’s very confused by your request, but he has granted you permission to skate Viktor’s final program.”</p>
<p>“He- he <em>did</em>?” Yuuri stammered in shock.</p>
<p>“Yes.  He was a bit…<em>blunt</em>…in his surprise; after all, you and Viktor didn’t know each other, did you?  But when I explained that Viktor had been a major inspiration in your skating, he seemed to understand.  He looks forward to seeing you perform it this season.”</p>
<p><em>As do I,</em> Viktor said.</p>
<p>“I hope I’ll do it justice, for him and for Viktor,” Yuuri murmured, suddenly realizing the additional pressure on his performances now that Yakov Feltsman was expecting results from him, too.</p>
<p>Clapping a hand on Yuuri’s back, Celestino seemed to understand Yuuri’s fears.  “Don’t stress about it, Yuuri; he wouldn’t have given his permission if he didn’t think you could do it.  I’m sure of that.”</p>
<p>Swallowing hard, Yuuri nodded.  “I hope so.  Thanks, Coach.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri had known that asking Yakov Feltsman for permission to skate his dead student’s final free program was insane; he’d expected to get pushback.  He wasn’t prepared for the combination of shock at the coach’s apparently easy acceptance of the request and worry about what the rest of the season would hold.  <em>Was I right to ask?  What will the fans think?  Is it rude to…to…skate a dead man’s final program, the one he never got to skate?</em> Yuuri worried long into the night.</p>
<p>His stress must have been strong enough for Viktor to notice.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri? </em>Viktor asked too lightly, too innocently – there were times that he seemed so different now from what Yuuri had known about the man before his…<em>before</em>.</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Yuuri responded.</p>
<p>
  <em>Come skate with me?</em>
</p>
<p>“I had a long day at practice,” Yuuri said.  “I’m not sure that…”</p>
<p>
  <em>Just skate.  Nothing fancy, I promise.</em>
</p>
<p>Considering it briefly, Yuuri decided skating with Viktor couldn’t hurt.  Slipping into his own soul room, he spared a brief glance for the beautiful beach that looked so similar to his home, then went in search of Viktor’s ice rink.  The door was already open when he reached the other side of the hallway, Viktor idly skating in small loops on the pristine ice.  Nervously shutting the door behind him, Yuuri settled on the bench next to the rink to put his skates on.</p>
<p>“You’ve been quiet,” Viktor stated, gliding over to the boards as Yuuri stepped onto the ice.  It’s not like Yuuri could argue against that assessment – they shared a body, after all.  Yuuri was just very lucky that Viktor couldn’t hear his thoughts.  Taking Yuuri’s hands and tugging him along as Viktor skated laps around the rink, he asked, “What’s on your mind?”</p>
<p>Yuuri looked away from Viktor and kept his eyes on the ice, not sure whether Viktor <em>really</em> wanted to know what he was thinking about.  Did he <em>want</em> reminders of his death, that he was stuck as a spirit in someone else’s body?  Did it help him to acknowledge what happened, or did it hurt him even more?</p>
<p>“Yuuri…?” Viktor prompted.</p>
<p>With a sigh, Yuuri knew he needed to talk to Viktor about this.  “You…you shouldn’t have died, Viktor.”</p>
<p>“<em>What</em>?”</p>
<p>“You were too young.  Nobody deserves to get murdered, <em>least </em>of all you.  Your life wasn’t over yet.”  Viktor said nothing.  “And now you’re stuck <em>here</em>,” Yuuri said, “which is hardly fair.  You’re trapped in a body that you have to share, and you have to share it with <em>me </em>of all people!”</p>
<p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Viktor asked sharply, coming to an abrupt stop and tugging Yuuri back to him.</p>
<p>“You’re stuck with a mediocre skater for the rest of- of however long you have to be here, and-”</p>
<p>Eyes wide, Viktor’s head tilted to the side as he tried to make sense of Yuuri’s words.  “You still see yourself as a mediocre skater after everything you’ve done?”</p>
<p>“<em>I </em>didn’t do those things; <em>you</em> did,” Yuuri corrected him.  “You earned those medals, not me.”</p>
<p>“I’m not the one that does Rippon axels in training like they’re nothing.  I’m not the one who’s put his blood, sweat, and tears into making your body know the ins and outs of your programs to the point where <em>anyone </em>in your body could do them on pure muscle memory.  That’s <em>you</em>, Yuuri, not me.  And if winning a few medals is all it takes to be more than a mediocre skater…well, you earned your way into Nationals in the first place.  That was all <em>your</em> work, and those were all <em>your</em> medals, Yuuri.”  When Yuuri didn’t look convinced, Viktor added, “I think that’s <em>hardly</em> mediocre.”</p>
<p>Yuuri looked at their boots, studying how Viktor’s skates looked exactly like the ones he’d worn in real life.  “Yuuri…Yuuri, look at me,” Viktor begged.  When Yuuri didn’t lift his gaze, Viktor gently placed a hand under his chin, guiding his eyes upward until they met his.  “If I have to be stuck here – and I don’t really consider it being <em>stuck here</em> since I’ve been given an opportunity at <em>life</em> again – why <em>wouldn’t</em> I want to be with you?”</p>
<p>“Why <em>would</em> you?” Yuuri countered.</p>
<p>“Because- because you’re <em>you</em>, Yuuri.  You’re kind and talented and…you remind me that I exist.”</p>
<p>“Other people could do that,” Yuuri argued, nervously tapping the toe pick of one of his blades against the ice.  “Phichit could do that.”</p>
<p>“Not in the way you do.”</p>
<p>Yuuri scoffed.  “Yeah, because it’s hard to forget who you were when you’re with someone who worshipped the ice you skated on,” he said, his cheeks flushing a deep red.</p>
<p>“No.”  Viktor brushed his fingers against Yuuri’s warm cheeks.  “It’s because you remind me what it’s like to be inspired by someone and want to keep living.  You…Yuuri, every day with you, even <em>this</em> way, is better than living stagnant days training for another gold medal.  I think…I forgot what it meant to have a life outside the rink.”  Viktor looked away from Yuuri, taking in the nondescript ice rink that depicted his soul room.  “<em>Clearly</em>.”</p>
<p>When it was evident that Yuuri would be adding nothing further, Viktor took his hand again and led him around the ice in silence, gloved fingers tightly interlocked as they matched each other’s pace.  Eventually, Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand tightly.  “You think that I’m…trapped here,” Viktor said tentatively.  Getting no response, he continued.  “Am I the reason you’re skating <em>Stammi Vicino</em>?”</p>
<p>Yuuri looked at Viktor like he had lost his mind.  “Of <em>course </em>you are, Viktor.  It’s your program, after all.”</p>
<p>Viktor shook his head.  “No, I mean…are you <em>only</em> skating <em>Stammi Vicino</em> because I’m stuck here and you’re trying to give me a second chance at the free skate I never got?”</p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t have an answer to that – at least not a good one.</p>
<p>Viktor seemed to realize that.  “What do I mean to you?” he asked instead, catching Yuuri off-guard.  “What am I to you?  Your friend?  Your idol?  Your coach?  Your boyfriend?  Your-”</p>
<p>“You’re <em>everything</em> to me, Viktor,” Yuuri told him.</p>
<p>“Viktor <em>Nikiforov</em> is everything to you.”</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>,” Yuuri said emphatically.  “Viktor Nikiforov is the reason I tried to get to where I am.  He’s what kept me going on my worst days when I spent more time on my butt than my blades.  <em>You’re</em> the reason I got to where I am now: you got me those medals, even if we don’t agree on who really earned them.  You’re the reason I believe I can do crazy things like throw both my arms up in the middle of a triple axel.  You’re…”</p>
<p><em>I love you</em>, Yuuri wanted to say, but it didn’t seem right.  Instead, he slowed to a stop, turning quickly and pressing up onto his toe picks to firmly place his lips against Viktor’s.  “<em>That’s</em> why I’m skating <em>Stammi Vicino</em>,” he said finally.  “Of course it’s for you.  It’s always been for you, and now…”  At a loss for words, Yuuri let his lips match Viktor’s again.</p>
<p>Neither man had any complaints.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri goes to his first Grand Prix assignment, and he comes face to face with Yakov.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>October crept up on them, bringing with it the beginning of the Grand Prix series.  Despite having participated in one competition already, Yuuri’s nerves were in full force as he arrived at his first Grand Prix event.  Celestino tried to calm him, reminding him that even though he’d switched his free program, <em>Stammi Vicino</em> was looking just as good as his old program – maybe even better.</p>
<p>That wasn’t the source of Yuuri’s anxiety, though.  Viktor’s free program – <em>Yuuri’s</em> free program – was like skating with an old friend.  He knew it inside and out, every part of it as familiar as his family home.  He’d known every fingertip movement before deciding to use it as his free program, and he’d only perfected the choreography since then.</p>
<p>No; Yuuri wasn’t nervous about his free program.  In truth, he wasn’t sure <em>what</em> he was nervous about until he saw it – or him, rather.</p>
<p>Yuuri would have recognized Yakov Feltsman anywhere.  Even if he weren’t sharing a body with the man’s former student, he would have recognized that stern face, permanently crossed arms, and barked comments from a mile away.  He’d watched the man coach Viktor for a decade, yelling criticism and rare praise across the rink at his skater, both of which always elicited the same glowing smile that drove the old coach insane.  He was <em>always </em>yelling; that was what struck Yuuri from the TV footage he would watch from under his covers in the middle of the night.  <em>Always</em>.</p>
<p>But he wasn’t working with Viktor anymore; instead, there was a young boy who looked more a junior than a senior, mid-length blonde hair tied back in a ponytail to keep it from falling into his face as he underrotated a quad toe loop and ended up on his back.</p>
<p>Yakov sighed.  “Try harder next time,” he said sternly, but there wasn’t any bite to the words.</p>
<p><em>WHAT?</em>  <em>Yura splatted, and all he got was…was…</em>try harder next time?! Viktor exclaimed in disbelief.</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t respond out loud – not here where there were cameras watching from television networks and the dozens of fancams around the arena.  Instead, he offered as much of a confused feeling as he could, hoping Viktor would elaborate.</p>
<p><em>Yura would be…hmm, I suppose he’s fifteen now, so this is his first senior season.  He’s incredibly talented – or he was.  What the hell was </em>that? Viktor asked.  After a second of silence, he added, <em>What the hell are they </em>both <em>doing?! </em>as he watched the boy – Yura – finish his practice, his group’s time on the ice nearly up.</p>
<p>Celestino waved Yuuri over to the boards by Coach Feltsman to prepare to take the ice.  “Checking out the competition?” Celestino asked brightly as Yuuri approached.</p>
<p>Yuuri simply hummed in response.  He needed to keep telling himself that he didn’t care how the rest of his competitors looked or else he would stop believing it.  Viktor had told him he just needed to think of his movements and what he was currently doing – things he could control.  He was terrified of disrupting that concentration.</p>
<p>“Celestino,” Yakov greeted, his usually stern voice tinged with respect.</p>
<p>“Yakov,” Celestino responded cheerfully.  “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”</p>
<p>The older coach nodded, his eyes never leaving Yura as he made another quad attempt – at least he only stumbled on the landing this time.  “This must be Katsuki.”</p>
<p><em>Tell him he’s gone soft,</em> Viktor insisted.  <em>Tell him Yura will never achieve anything with that kind of coaching.  Tell him-</em></p>
<p>“Coach Feltsman, I really admire your coaching techniques,” Yuuri said.</p>
<p><em>...not that. Don’t tell him that.</em>  Yuuri could hear Viktor’s sigh inside his head.  <em>Tell him…Tell him it wasn’t his fault,</em> Viktor said instead, his voice sounding strained and so, so guilty.</p>
<p>“I...Viktor...he…” Yuuri tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come.  To someone who didn’t know Viktor was <em>there</em>, any kind of condolence would sound hollow and fake – even rude.</p>
<p>Yakov made a sound like something had caught in his throat.  “Viktor.  Yes.  I’m sure you were a fan.”</p>
<p><em>More than just a fan</em>, Viktor said, and Yuuri was certain there’d be waggling eyebrows included with his words if Viktor were visible.</p>
<p>Yuuri felt his cheeks flush.  “I was, sir, yes.  He made me want to compete, and I always hoped to skate on the same ice as him one day.  Most people dream of the Olympics, but…competing against Viktor was what motivated me.”</p>
<p>Yuuri could feel Viktor’s odd silence in his mind.  He couldn’t talk to him right now without Yakov noticing, but his wave of curiosity must have been enough to prompt Viktor to talk.</p>
<p><em>I didn’t know that.  You...</em>  There was a pause, then Viktor said, <em>We skate on the same ice now.  I’m sorry it can’t be how you would have liked...how either of us would have liked it to be.</em></p>
<p>“It’s perfect,” Yuuri murmured aloud before remembering who was standing in front of him.</p>
<p>“What was that, Katsuki?” Yakov asked gruffly, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.</p>
<p>“Uh...he was perfect,” Yuuri rushed to say.  “On the ice.”</p>
<p>Yakov grunted, but there was a flicker of something sad in his eyes.  “On the ice, maybe,” he agreed.  “Good luck with your free program.  I’m glad I’ll get to see its first performance in person.”</p>
<p>Yuuri stilled, remembering just a moment too late that this was the man who had watched Viktor put his entire heart and soul into the program he would be skating in just a few days.  It was Yakov’s permission that had allowed for this to happen, and the pressure to perform well had just increased ten-fold yet again.  Yuuri swallowed hard, then tried to put on the most relaxed smile he could.  “I hope to do it justice, sir.”</p>
<p>Viktor scoffed.  <em>Of course you will.  Why else would I have suggested you skate it in the first place?</em></p>
<p>Yakov’s response of “See that you do,” might have been intended as a stern warning, but it came across weary, instead.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Even having competed in the Challenger event to prepare him for the season’s competitions, Yuuri’s familiar nerves were still there as he stepped onto the ice the following day for his short program.</p>
<p>“When you’re out there, Yuuri,” Celestino was saying, “don’t focus on things you can’t change; you can only give your all to the next element.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Coach,” Yuuri murmured.  Viktor had been telling him the same thing the past few days, but it was still difficult to stop his mind from worrying about the elements he’d just completed – especially if there had been mistakes.  Yuuri took a deep breath and bowed to his coach, then shook his hand firmly.</p>
<p>While Yuuri skated to the middle of the rink, Viktor offered his own final words.  <em>I am here with you, my Yuuri.  I won’t do anything unless you ask me to or push me there first.  You can do this on your own; I know you can.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri hadn’t realized how much of his pre-competition stress was related to the events in Canada until Viktor spoke.  He felt like his shoulders lightened as he froze in his opening position, arms across his chest.</p>
<p>“Stay close to me,” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p><em>Always,</em> Viktor promised as the first echo of the piano reached the ice.</p>
<p>Yuuri wished for a fleeting moment that Viktor was the one performing this program so Yuuri could just watch from his mind without having to stress about needing to actually <em>do </em>it.  In his heart, though, that wasn’t what he really wanted.  Yuuri loved performing, even if his anxiety didn’t.  He loved giving his all to his programs, turning his soul over to the ice beneath his blades and the audience waiting for the magic to happen – even if they didn’t know that the real magic of Yuuri’s <em>Ghost</em> program was the truth in his connection to the music.</p>
<p>His first jump was the quad flip, landed cleanly if a bit tight in getting his free leg out.</p>
<p><em>Good, the judges won’t have any major issues with that</em>, Viktor told him as he moved into the few steps that were choreographed to take him to the other side of the rink for his second jumping pass.</p>
<p>Quickly turning from backwards to forwards, Yuuri immediately jumped into his triple axel with both arms over his head.  He landed cleanly, moving smoothly into a series of twizzles and eliciting a collective gasp from the audience.</p>
<p><em>Beautiful, Yuuri – yes!</em> Viktor encouraged him as Yuuri dove with renewed energy into his step sequence.</p>
<p>The second half approached, only one jumping pass remaining.  Yuuri set up for his combination, the quad toe loop and triple toe loop both landed easily to Viktor’s delight.</p>
<p>Yuuri let Viktor’s satisfaction drive him through his final spins, finishing his first clean short program of the season.</p>
<p><em>Congratulations, Yuuri,</em> Viktor said the moment he stepped off the ice.  <em>That will easily put you into first.</em></p>
<p>Viktor was right – with his two quads and the clean program, Yuuri earned a score of 103.85.  It took him a minute to process the number in front of him, and he was shocked to find that it was nearly 10 points higher than at his Challenger event.</p>
<p><em>Yes, but at the Challenger, you didn’t skate clean.  These are the scores you deserve when you’re at your peak</em>, Viktor pointed out.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>The following day, Yuuri was feeling even more pressure to perform well in his free program.  The whole world was watching, but more importantly, <em>Yakov</em> was watching – and he’d be standing just feet away from the rink.</p>
<p>Standing in a blue replica of Viktor’s own pink costume, Yuuri wondered what the world saw when they looked at him on the ice.  Did they see a man paying tribute to his idol?  A boy trying to be something he wasn’t?  An upstart brashly hoping to prove he was better than the greatest they’d ever seen?  Or maybe they’d be closer to the truth – did they see a man giving one last breath of life to the pinnacle of Viktor Nikiforov’s artistry?</p>
<p>Just as Viktor’s program started with a quadruple flip, so did Yuuri’s: quad flip-double toe, a clean combination to start the program.  His quad toe loop came shortly after.</p>
<p>His triple axel, the Rippon variation with both arms raised, was something that was both an homage to Viktor’s Tano variation and a piece that was distinctly <em>Yuuri</em> – but it was not to be today.  He landed just under half a rotation shy, his blade carving out the final amount of rotation on the ice and teetering for a moment as he struggled to steady himself.  A ripple of frustration flowed through Yuuri.</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s okay, Yuuri.  Think of the next element – your spin.  Yes.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri focused on Viktor’s words, letting his mind think only of the spin, then the triple loop that finished out the first half of the program.</p>
<p>They’d set his two remaining combinations for just after the halfway mark in the program so they’d earn bonus points.  The triple axel-half loop-triple flip came easily, as did the triple lutz-triple toe loop that came right after.</p>
<p>The exhaustion was beginning to hit with thirty seconds left in the program and one jump – the quad flip – to go.  Yuuri was really beginning to consider whether it had been wise to bookmark his program with his hardest jumps.</p>
<p>
  <em>You can do it, Yuuri.  Step, turn, and-</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri jumped, spinning in the air, but he landed too far back on his blade.  He turned out of the landing, quickly readjusting to mask the mistake as best he could with a set of twizzles, then moving swiftly into a spin.</p>
<p>
  <em>Good thinking!  Let the judges decide how intentional that was.  You’re almost there, Yuuri; you can do this.</em>
</p>
<p>By the time the music reached its last notes, Yuuri was breathing heavily.  The noise of the crowd was mingled with the thrum of Yuuri’s pulse in his ears as he let himself finally relax.</p>
<p><em>Beautiful, Yuuri.  Well done.  That was a program worthy of Viktor Nikiforov</em>, Viktor noted with a hint of amusement.</p>
<p>Yuuri bowed to the audience, then turned to bow to the other side of the arena.  As he stood straight again, he noticed Yakov standing at the edge of the arena, arms crossed tightly over his chest.  His posture looked no different than normal, but his expression…</p>
<p><em>He’s…pleased, I think, but sad,</em> Viktor supplied.  <em>I would be, too, if I were in his shoes watching you give a performance like that.</em></p>
<p>“I’m sorry it couldn’t have been perfect,” Yuuri murmured, uncaring about the cameras that were certainly directed at his face.  If anyone asked later, it would be easy to say his words were for the memory of Viktor Nikiforov, an apology for not doing his program justice on its first outing.</p>
<p>Stepping off the ice, Yuuri saw Yakov now waiting with the littler Yuri, currently in first place, off to the side.  The old coach still had that strange look on his face, but Yuuri couldn’t dwell on it any longer as he was quickly pulled away to the kiss and cry.  A few moments later, the replay having highlighted both the success of his first quad flip and the failure of his abysmal triple axel, his score was announced.</p>
<p>“Yuuri Katsuki has earned in the free program a score of 195.30 for a total competition score of 299.15.  He is in first place.”</p>
<p><em>So close to that 300-point mark!  You’ll get it next time,</em> Viktor said.  <em>Congratulations on your first senior Grand Prix gold, звезда моя.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri smiled to himself, hoping that Viktor could feel the wave of gratitude that washed through him.</p>
<p>After the Victory Ceremony, Yuuri followed the other skaters back to the athlete’s area.  Celestino was waiting halfway down the hallway, but Yakov was waiting for little Yuri nearby.  Pausing for a moment, Yuuri approached the Russian coach, the man’s eyes carefully following his every moment.  Yuuri wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say – he just needed to know what Viktor’s coach had thought about his performance.</p>
<p>“…adequate,” Yakov finally forced out, saving Yuuri from needing to even ask.</p>
<p><em>Adequate?  Coming from him, that’s practically an Olympic medal, звезда моя</em>, Viktor offered.</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed hard over a mysterious lump in his throat.  “Thank you, sir,” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p>“I expect to see you at the Final.”</p>
<p>“I’ll do my best.”</p>
<p>Yakov said nothing further, simply wandering off down the hallway in search of his wayward skater.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Year, everyone!  We made it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri and Viktor return from his first Grand Prix event, and Viktor's final moments come to light.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is a small description of Viktor’s death in this chapter that is told in the form of a nightmare.  I don’t think it’s too gruesome, but everyone has different experiences when reading, and I thought it best to give a warning ahead of time.  If you are worried that it might be triggering, it occurs in the paragraph that starts with “But it shouldn’t be familiar” and you should be clear to read again with the line starting “Viktor did, though, in vivid detail.”  I don’t think it’s overly graphic, but I wanted to mention it just in case. &lt;3  I will put a brief summary in the end notes so you don’t miss anything plot-wise if you choose to skip that paragraph!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been hard to balance Viktor’s thoughts and emotions with Celestino’s coaching during the competition, and when you added in Yakov being there and distracting both Viktor <em>and </em>Yuuri?  It was a miracle that Yuuri had remained as collected as he had.</p>
<p>The sudden release of all the competition stress upon his arrival home left Yuuri feeling unsettled.  He needed somewhere calm to think, somewhere he could be alone and just let himself be <em>free</em>, but it was the middle of the night.  Phichit was asleep, so he couldn’t make too much noise in the apartment, and he really shouldn’t go to the rink…but his soul room – his beach.  Nobody could disturb him there.</p>
<p>He’d never used the beach for this purpose before.  Until now, it had always acted as a landing area for Yuuri to visit Viktor, an airport terminal for him to quickly pass through on the way to his destination.  He’d never thought to stop and <em>look</em>.</p>
<p>And god, the beach really was incredible.  It seemed to be perpetually stuck at sunset, the golden hour of the day casting a warm glow on the water.  It was moments like these when Yuuri used to stand on the shore in Hasetsu hoping he could freeze time and stay there forever.  Somehow, his mind was able to do just that.</p>
<p>It was quiet without being unnaturally silent.  The ocean was calm, but the waves still gently pushed their way up the sand, the sound intertwining with the brush of the wind against the sparse trees further up the beach.  Yuuri would never be able to find the words to describe the tranquility the beach gave him, but he’d never been good with words, anyhow.  While Yuuri couldn’t skate on the sand to show his feelings, he could dance – so, despite not having an audience, he did.</p>
<p>His feet were moving before he realized it, stepping across the sand in time with the wind.  He was spinning and twirling, trying to mimic the movement of the glistening water in front of him.  The ebb and flow of the waves, the gentle hush of water against damp sand as it moved with the breeze – it was driving him, urging him on, making him dance faster and faster.</p>
<p>He moved up the beach as the waves crested over the sand, and then the water drew out again, Yuuri following it with each step and spin and movement until the water pushed up again, leading Yuuri back onto dry sand with a leap.</p>
<p>Then the wind picked up, curling him into spin after spin that would certainly be twizzles on the ice, first on one foot and then the other.  The breeze guided him along the edge of the water, the sunset reflecting off the waves as Yuuri danced the evening tides.</p>
<p>The beach felt more than real; it felt magical.  The waves were speaking to him in his own voice, telling him to press on further, to let his body sing rather than simply move.</p>
<p>Telling him to <em>shine</em>.</p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t realize the door was open; rather, he didn’t realize he had forgotten to shut it since Viktor was welcome practically everywhere now.</p>
<p>“<em>Beautiful</em>,” Viktor declared reverently, his smile one of absolute adoration.</p>
<p>Startled by the voice, Yuuri missed a step, his foot finally meeting the water as a wave crested onto the beach.</p>
<p>“Viktor!”</p>
<p>“I wish I could move the way you do.  I wish my body <em>sang </em>like that.”</p>
<p>“But…”</p>
<p>“But what, Yuuri?”</p>
<p>“You move like…”  Yuuri shook his head, rubbing nervously at his arm.  “I can’t even explain it.  I’ve been trying to match your movements for the free program this season, but it’s been so difficult.  You have this…precision when you skate that I can’t replicate.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s brow pinched together.  “Yuuri…why would you try to replicate it?”</p>
<p>“Because it’s for <em>you</em>.  It’s <em>your</em> program,” Yuuri stated as if it were obvious.</p>
<p>“But <em>you’re</em> the one skating it.  It’s a dedication program, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Yuuri opened his mouth to speak, but he was at a loss for words.  Maybe people saw it as a dedication program, but that’s not what Yuuri had intended it to be.  He had been…well, he’d been trying to let Viktor skate again through Yuuri’s body, even if it were just for a little while.</p>
<p>“Yuuri?” Viktor prompted, the sunlight making his long hair appear almost golden instead of the silver it really was.</p>
<p>Yuuri just shook his head, tears prickling his eyes.  “I just wanted you to be able to skate again, Viktor.”</p>
<p>Viktor sighed, making his way down the beach until he stood toe to toe with Yuuri, the waves kissing his shoes.  “Yuuri, listen to me.  <em>I am dead.</em>  I may not like it, but I’ve accepted it.  I won’t be able to skate anymore – not really – and people won’t ever see me skate when I’m <em>you</em>, anyways.  <em>You’re</em> the one skating now; <em>you’re</em> the one people need to see.  Don’t try to be me.  Let them <em>see you</em>, звезда моя.  Let yourself <em>shine</em>.”</p>
<p>With tears streaming down his face, Yuuri sniffled.  “I…I just want to make you proud.”</p>
<p>Viktor laughed, his voice echoing across the beach in a way that wouldn’t have been possible in the real world.  “And you <em>do</em>, Yuuri; <em>god</em> do you make me proud.  You’re so strong and resilient and…just the sheer willpower you have, your tenacity, the lack of fear you show chasing goals that are bigger than most people could ever imagine.”  Leaning his forehead against Yuuri’s, he said, “I don’t know of a single universe where you wouldn’t make me proud.  You could quit skating right this very minute, and I would still be proud of you as long as you were doing what you felt in your heart is <em>right.</em>”</p>
<p>Lips quivering, Yuuri asked, “And if my heart is telling me to kiss you right now?  To never let you go and always stay close to you?”</p>
<p>Rather than answering with words, Viktor placed one hand on Yuuri’s lower back, the other grasping gently at his neck.  As soft as a whisper, Viktor’s lips met Yuuri’s.</p>
<p>After a quiet minute, neither willing to be the first to pull away and desperate for more of the lingering touches they couldn’t have when they were awake, Viktor leaned back with a soft hum.  “You know, Yuuri,” he mused, “that dance <em>was</em> beautiful.  Have you thought of turning it into a program?”</p>
<p>“For what?” Yuuri asked.  “I already have my programs set for this season, and I don’t think it would lend itself well as a program, anyway.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have a new exhibition program, though,” Viktor said.  “It could be very impressive to have a program with only one jump in it – or no jumps.  You could really showcase your skating skills and dancing ability.”</p>
<p>“Hmm…”  Yuuri thought about it for a moment.  “If you’ll help me choreograph it?”</p>
<p>Placing a soft kiss on Yuuri’s forehead, Viktor said, “I’d be honored, звезда моя.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>A week later, Viktor insisted they watch Yura’s second Grand Prix event.  Yuuri convinced Celestino that he wanted to keep an eye on the competition and asked to leave practice a little early.  Celestino didn’t look very sure, especially with Yuuri’s history of competition-related anxiety (which, to Celestino, had magically improved that season, and his scores showed it), but he eventually relented.  Phichit eagerly joined them, insisting that they make it a watch party.</p>
<p>Spending time with Phichit as they ate popcorn and offered their own commentary on the commentator-less stream was quite enjoyable to say the least, especially since Viktor’s added critiques had Yuuri in constant peals laughter.  Things were going well for the first group of skaters, and then Yura was up for his six-minute warmup.  To Yuuri, Yakov looked stern.  Viktor thought otherwise.</p>
<p>
  <em>God, he looks so stressed.</em>
</p>
<p>“Why is he stressed?” Yuuri asked aloud before he could stop himself.</p>
<p>“Who?” Phichit asked as he settled back onto the couch with their refilled popcorn.</p>
<p>“Uh, Coach Feltsman.  Viktor says he’s stressed,” Yuuri hesitantly supplied.  Phichit knew that Viktor was <em>here</em>, of course, but it was still odd to mention him to somebody else when he spent the rest of his day covering up his continued existence.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yura looks stiff, too.</em>
</p>
<p>“<em>Stressed?</em>  I’m not sure what you’re seeing, Yuuri.  He looks pissed if anything.  He’s got the little blonde kid, right?  He keeps missing all his jumps.”  Phichit was right – Yuuri had glanced away from the screen for a moment to talk, and in that time, Yura had messed up two jumps.  Yakov had turned away from the rink.</p>
<p>
  <em>What’s going on?  He seemed okay at your GP, but now…</em>
</p>
<p>“He looks almost like you used to,” Phichit mused, “like he’s too deep in his own head to just <em>skate</em>.”</p>
<p>Yura was up first in the group.  He stopped practicing a full minute before their time was over, instead spending the time talking to his coach.</p>
<p><em>Where’s the yelling?  He needs a pep talk, not coddling!  What does Yakov think this is, a novice Russian Cup event?  Yura needs to get out of his head and </em>skate<em>, dammit!  </em>Yuuri hummed in agreement.  All too soon, Yura was the only one left on the ice.</p>
<p>Yuuri wished he could look away.</p>
<p>By the time the competition finished, Yura was in eighth place out of the twelve skaters.  His triple axel and triple flip were beautiful, but he’d fallen on the first jump of his combination, and since he’d placed it as his last jumping pass for extra points, he couldn’t make it up.</p>
<p>
  <em>He showed so much promise.  I don’t understand.</em>
</p>
<p>“Things change, Viktor,” Yuuri murmured quietly as he got up for the bathroom, leaving Phichit to turn off the stream.</p>
<p><em>He can’t make up that big of a deficit in the free skate – he doesn’t have the quads to do it!  He’d have to skate </em>perfectly<em>, and with what he showed today…  He needs to pray for </em>others<em> to make mistakes!  That was never the way the team was run before,</em> Viktor ranted.</p>
<p>Come the next day, Viktor’s prediction rang true.  Yura fell on one jump and made a few errors on others, but overall, his performance was less disastrous than the short program.  Three of the competitors above him had a rough day, and his free skate placed fifth.  Overall, he’d placed sixth, far behind Christophe Giacometti’s gold medal performance.</p>
<p>Yura was out of the Grand Prix Final.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri tossed and turned that night, his sleep disturbed by all-consuming shadows and darkness that weren’t his own.  He might have called it a nightmare, the images his mind presented heralding fear – no, not fear, <em>pure terror</em> – and dread, but something about it was too familiar for it to simply be a dream.</p>
<p>But it <em>shouldn’t </em>be familiar.  Yuuri shouldn’t remember a concrete alley and a stranger stalking through a darkened city and the black sky and the mocking stars high above him that just watched as he took his last breaths.  He shouldn’t remember pleading with the attacker, why, <em>why</em>, what had he done to deserve this? only to hear a gunshot in response.  He shouldn’t remember crying, <em>screaming</em>, being left with a bleeding chest and only being found by strangers long after his last chances to breathe had run out.  Yuuri shouldn’t remember Viktor Nikiforov’s death – <em>murder</em> – and maybe it’s because he <em>didn’t</em>.</p>
<p>Viktor did, though, in vivid detail, and for whatever reason, Viktor had slipped into the opening Yuuri had unknowingly left as he drifted off to sleep.  The memory had wormed its way into Yuuri’s dreams of poodles and ice skating and left him waking in a cold sweat at the sound of long-forgotten sirens.</p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t ask about it the following day.  After all, there was no need to; he knew he had witnessed Viktor’s final moments, lonely and cold in the street on the eve of what should have been a triumphant celebration.  What would he have asked?  What more would he <em>want </em>to ask?</p>
<p>But…did Viktor <em>know</em> that Yuuri had seen those things?  Would he want Yuuri to mention it?  Did he want to talk about it, or…</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?  What’s wrong?</em>
</p>
<p>Apparently, Yuuri’s worry was strong enough to garner Viktor’s attention.  Should he explain what he had seen?  Should he tell Viktor about the dream, or-</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?  Something’s wrong.  Please tell me?</em>
</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Yuuri said, “I…I had a dream last night, Viktor.”</p>
<p>
  <em>What was it about?</em>
</p>
<p>“Uh, actually…I’m pretty sure <em>you</em> had a dream.  A nightmare.  I just…witnessed it.”</p>
<p>Silence.</p>
<p>“Viktor?”</p>
<p><em>Yuuri, tell me it wasn’t…not </em>that<em>…</em></p>
<p>Yuuri wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but the words rushed from his mouth regardless.  “Viktor, I’m so sorry.  You never deserved that.  Nobody deserves that, <em>least </em>of all you.  I just wish…I wish I could have- could have helped maybe, or found you, or-”  Yuuri stopped, tears having pooled at the corner of his eyes as more and more emotion flooded his voice, leaving him hiccupping through his words.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri…</em>
</p>
<p>“You <em>didn’t</em>, Viktor,” Yuuri insisted.  “You didn’t deserve that.  This isn’t fair to you – <em>none </em>of this was.”</p>
<p><em>There’s nothing you could have done, звезда моя.  Nothing.  It’s too late to change it, and…  </em>Yuuri waited patiently, sensing that Viktor had more to say – but just like Yuuri, he didn’t know how to form the words.  <em>I don’t know that my life would have been any better than this had I not died.</em></p>
<p>It took Yuuri’s mind a minute too long to process what Viktor was saying.</p>
<p><em>I wish I hadn’t died, certainly.  I would have liked another World title or five, and my poor Makka is all alone now, and Yakov and Yura, and…but skating isn’t easy, and fame isn’t, either.  What would I have done in a few years?  How much longer could I have surprised people, kept them interested in me?  How long would it have been before I lost my love for the ice or broke my body too much for surgery to fix or-</em>  Viktor sounded desperate, and it broke Yuuri’s heart.  <em>What would I have done after that?  What worth would I have had left?</em></p>
<p><em>And I’m </em>here<em> still, aren’t I?</em>  Viktor’s voice was full of desperation.<em>  I’m here, even if I can’t…I can’t </em>touch<em> you like I wish I could or </em>see<em> you in quite the same way.  That doesn’t really matter, does it, in the grand scheme of things?  If this is the only way that I…  </em>Viktor paused.  <em>I found you, звезда моя.  Maybe that can be enough.  Would I have ever met you if this didn’t happen?</em></p>
<p>“We would have found each other one way or another, Viktor,” Yuuri swore to him.  “It might have taken a few years, but I was coming up the ranks, and…”</p>
<p><em>But would I still have been skating?  Who’s to say I wouldn’t have been injured by now, a retired Russian star who just sat in his apartment all day with his dog and a bottle of something strong enough to make me not </em>feel anything <em>anymore?</em></p>
<p>“We have each other, though,” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p><em>We do, and…Yuuri, I am eternally grateful that I was given the miracle that brought me back and led me to you, but sometimes…</em>  Yuuri’s curiosity pulsed through his body, and Viktor sighed.  <em>I want to see Makka again and…I wish I could talk to Yakov, tell him it wasn’t his fault, but…this will be enough.  This </em>is<em> enough, Yuuri.  I have you, and that’s enough.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Summary of that paragraph: Viktor went for a walk the night before his free skate at his last Worlds.  He was in a deserted area of the city, was followed to an alley, and was shot.  Help came too late, and Viktor didn’t make it.</p>
<p>Poor Viktor has kept a lot bottled up inside!  He's been trying to convince himself (and Yuuri) his current existence is enough, but our Yuuri is too smart for that, don't you think?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri is determined to find a way to fulfill Viktor's last wishes.  It's time for Yuuri's second Grand Prix events, but things can't go smoothly for him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is a bit longer than some of the last few - we're almost the halfway point in the story!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuuri felt useless.  He tried every single day to make Viktor’s existence with him as comfortable and happy as possible, but despite all Viktor’s reassurances that what he had was “enough,” Yuuri knew that simply wasn’t true.  To make the situation worse, everything Viktor wanted or needed to do was in Russia, but Yuuri didn’t have a way to get there – especially not a way that granted him access to Yakov Feltsman and Viktor’s poodle for an extended period of time.</p>
<p>“Think about signing up for some masterclasses over Christmas and in the spring,” Celestino was saying to some of the younger skaters at the rink.  “It’s always good to have a fresh set of eyes watch you.  Let me know if you need help completing the applications or want me to reach out to any coaches!”</p>
<p>Yuuri thanked whatever force it was that put Viktor in the necklace for making it so that Yuuri’s thoughts remained private – otherwise, Viktor would have heard the spark of inspiration his coach’s words brought.  (As it was, Viktor probably <em>felt</em> his inspiration, but Yuuri hoped he would attribute it to an idea for a program or something unimportant.)</p>
<p>Later that night, Yuuri began his shower routine as usual by removing the necklace.  He always kept it on at the rink for security reasons, but in his own apartment, Yuuri felt safer leaving the necklace on the edge of the sink just in case any of his soaps could harm the metal or the stone nestled in the middle.  Tonight, Yuuri rushed through his washing, carrying the necklace back to his room and immediately opening his laptop.  He ignored the niggling feeling of discomfort that he always had when he wasn’t wearing the star pendant as he searched Yakov Feltsman’s name and found the Saint Petersburg rink’s training website.</p>
<p>Yuuri could have sang – once the page was translated, a large banner proclaimed a series of masterclasses, the deadlines for which were approaching soon.  Glancing at the clock, Yuuri saw that he was already a few minutes past the time he usually spent in the shower, but he prayed Viktor wouldn’t notice a minute more.  He downloaded the application, quickly looking over the information it would need, and saved it for another day buried within a series of unassuming folders.</p>
<p>Viktor didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary when he returned a few minutes later – and if he did, he didn’t ask, and Yuuri wasn’t about to say anything.</p>
<p>Over the next several days, Yuuri took a few extra minutes for his “showers” each evening as he chipped away at the application for the masterclass.  The deadline was quickly drawing closer, but it only served to make Yuuri that much more determined to do this for Viktor.  Finally completed, he emailed the application to the coordinator and crossed his fingers, wishing for a small miracle.</p>
<p>Yuuri kept his routine of leaving the necklace off for a few extra minutes each night, checking his email every day as the deadline passed and the arrival of the first masterclass grew closer.  Days passed with no notice until an email finally arrived in his inbox from the coordinator.  Holding his breath, Yuuri waited for the message to load, only to have his hopes crushed seconds later.</p>
<p>
  <em>Dear Yuuri Katsuki,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank you for your application to the Saint Petersburg Masterclass Series with Yakov Feltsman.  Unfortunately, there are no more spots available at this time.  We will hold your application on file in case a spot becomes available, but we encourage you to apply again in the future.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri read the email twice, dread sinking into his stomach more and more with every passing second.  He’d failed.  He’d tried to get Viktor to Russia, but it hadn’t worked, and the email only managed to twist yet another dagger of guilt and inadequacy in Yuuri’s heart.  Sniffling, Yuuri brushed tears away from his eyes, staring blindly at the computer screen.</p>
<p>No.  He’d have to do better.  He had to get Viktor to Russia.  He’d just…have to find some other way.</p>
<p>Yuuri buried the message in a folder where Viktor wouldn’t accidentally see it, then spent a few minutes composing himself.  Viktor would have known immediately that something was wrong if he put the necklace back on with tear tracks still sticky on his cheeks, and he didn’t want to tell Viktor about his failure – that’s why he hadn’t told him in the first place.</p>
<p>When the necklace rested heavy against his chest once more, though, Viktor was concerned.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?  You okay?  You took longer than usual tonight.</em>
</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah,” Yuuri said hoarsely.  “Just…long day at practice.  My muscles were starting to tighten up a little, so I spent some extra time in the shower trying to get them to relax.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t work too hard, звезда моя.  Take a rest day if you need to, and I can even show you some stretches…I know Celestino and I have been pushing you hard lately.</em>
</p>
<p>Smiling weakly, Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief.  “I know, Viktor.  I’ll try to be more careful.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri’s second Grand Prix event was approaching faster than any of them wanted.  He’d practiced harder than ever, and with his two coaches, everything should have been fine before the competition.  At most, Yuuri should have only had to deal with his pre-competition jitters.</p>
<p>If only that were true.</p>
<p>A week and a half before the competition, Celestino started coughing during practice.  He told Yuuri it was nothing – just some allergies getting the best of him.  Three days later, Celestino called Yuuri to explain that he had developed a high fever.</p>
<p>“But don’t worry, Yuuri; I’ll be fine,” Celestino assured him.  “Just listen to Coach Reynolds.  He knows what you’ve been working on lately, and he’ll help you polish everything before the competition.”</p>
<p>“But…”</p>
<p>Celestino sighed.  “Yuuri, you need to focus on your training right now.  I’ll be better by the time we need to leave for the competition.  I have my health under control; you don’t need to worry about it.”</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to listen to his coach.  Celestino hadn’t let him down before; if he said he’d be better, he would be.</p>
<p>But a week later, he wasn’t.</p>
<p>“Yuuri,” Celestino said as soon as the line connected.</p>
<p>Yuuri felt his heart sink.  Celestino still sounded awful, and the hacking cough that immediately followed the greeting only made Yuuri more worried.  “You can’t go,” he stated.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Yuuri-” <em>hack, cough, ahem</em> “-and since Coach Reynolds is the only other coach at the rink this week, he can’t go, either.”  They were silent for a moment save for Celestino’s sniffling and coughing as they both processed the situation.  “Yuuri?”</p>
<p><em>I’ll be there</em>, Viktor reminded him.</p>
<p>“I- I’ll be okay,” Yuuri said.</p>
<p>“To go to the competition by yourself?” Celestino asked.</p>
<p>“I…yes.  The JSF always sends a representative, anyway, so I’ll have someone to sit with me – and I can call you if I need you, right?”</p>
<p>Celestino chuckled, which only served to set him gasping for breath once more.  “Yuuri, you know I’m always here for you – skating related or not.  You can call me at any hour of the day.”  He paused for a moment, then asked again, “Are you positive you’ll be okay going by yourself?”</p>
<p><em>If only he knew that your </em>real<em> coach would be there,</em> Viktor said, his tone hinting at a smirk.</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine, Coach.  You just need to worry about getting better before we go to the Grand Prix Final,” Yuuri told him.</p>
<p>“That’s more like it!  I’ll have Coach Reynolds escort you to the airport, and hopefully, I’ll be feeling well enough to pick you up when you return.”</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed hard as his anxiety began creeping into his thoughts like a very unwelcome old friend.</p>
<p><em>Don’t worry, Yuuri, </em>Viktor quickly cut in before his thoughts could spiral out of control. <em> I’ll be there.  It might not be exactly the same as having an actual coach…a </em>living <em>coach,</em> he corrected grimly, <em>but I’ll be right by your side.</em></p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Arriving at the Grand Prix event without a coach was strange, to say the least.  Yuuri simultaneously felt out of place and as if nothing were wrong.  To an outsider, Yuuri had no coach to help him, just the JSF representative who was sticking religiously by his side on Celestino’s orders.</p>
<p>But Yuuri <em>had</em> his coach – one of his coaches, at least.</p>
<p><em>Yes, better!</em> Viktor cheered as Yuuri landed his second quad lutz of the practice – Viktor had deemed his first “<em>Horrendous.  That’s hardly worthy of being called a quad lutz.  Do it like I would.</em>”  Yuuri had felt that Viktor was on the verge of simply taking over at that statement, so he put everything he had into the second jump and was rewarded with Viktor’s happiness.</p>
<p><em>Now, let’s see that Rippon axel.  Show them all what a perfect axel should look like, </em>Viktor ordered.  Although they were working in a much different setting, Yuuri was reassured by having his normal training methods: Viktor called an element, Yuuri delivered it, and if it wasn’t good enough the first time, he’d have to do it again or let Viktor show him how to correct it.</p>
<p>While Yuuri was fine without Celestino in practice, he felt very off as the actual competition drew closer.  He called Celestino before the short program, and his coach managed to quell some of his nerves.  It had been years since he’d competed without Celestino by his side, and the loss of the routine made him uncomfortable.</p>
<p>He needn’t have worried, though.  Once the music began, the stress seemed to melt away, and Yuuri delivered a clean short program earning him a score of 106.95.  It put him in first place with just over two points between him and Michele Crispino, leaving him in a strong position going into the free skate the following day.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s stress regarding the free skate had less to do with missing Celestino and more to do with his updated technical content.  They’d added the quad lutz to his layout, albeit without any of the arm variations that Viktor had him practicing when Celestino wasn’t around, and moved both quad flips to the second half of the program.  It had definitely been challenging in practice, but Yuuri had performed more clean run-throughs than not in the past two weeks, so he was hopeful it would work out.</p>
<p>Opening his free program with a quadruple toe loop, the easiest of his four planned quads, Yuuri landed it cleanly, giving him confidence for the more difficult jumping passes to come.  The quad lutz would not be so easy, though; Yuuri tensed up just as he picked into the ice, and immediately, he knew the jump was off.  He managed to get his four full rotations in, but he fell hard as his blade hit the ice.</p>
<p><em>You okay, Yuuri?</em> Viktor asked in concern, forgetting for a moment that Yuuri couldn’t answer him.  Feeling that Yuuri wasn’t injured, though, Viktor said, <em>You can do it, звезда моя.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri gave everything he had to the next triple axel, landing it cleanly, but his combination – what should have been the easiest one of the program – didn’t fare so well.  He landed the triple lutz with hardly any momentum, only managing to add on a double toe loop.</p>
<p>
  <em>Good, you got the combination in!</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri moved through his step sequence with blinding speed, his edges deep and sure as he moved with the music.  The initial shock and pain from the fall had worn off, and Yuuri was determined to make up for it in the second half of the program.</p>
<p>He started off strong with his triple axel-half loop-triple flip combination, but his energy began waning as he approached his next combination.  He couldn’t control his landing on the quad flip, turning out of the jump as his blade met the ice, but he forced himself up into a double toe loop so he wouldn’t risk repeating an element on his last jump.  Luckily, his closing quad flip went much more smoothly, and he moved into his final spins.</p>
<p>When the music was over, Yuuri’s smile dropped almost immediately.  “I can’t believe I fell on the lutz,” he murmured in disappointment, his words lost in the noise of the arena.</p>
<p><em>You fell on one of four quads,</em> Viktor pointed out.  <em>Your program had </em>four <em>quads, Yuuri.  You should be very proud of yourself – I know I am.  We can work on your stamina; don’t worry.  You’ll easily qualify for the Final.</em></p>
<p>Despite Yuuri’s fears, the score wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d anticipated – in fact, it was only a few points shy of his free program score at his first Grand Prix assignment.</p>
<p>“Yuuri Katsuki of Japan has earned in the free program…191.65 points for a total score of 298.60.  He is in second place.”  Yuuri watched the screen as his score fell just 3 points below Michele’s, who’d produced two flawless programs and earned the highest score of his senior career.</p>
<p>Second place – silver.  Silver was plenty.  Combined with the points from his gold medal in the first Grand Prix qualifier, he was guaranteed a spot in the Final.</p>
<p>
  <em>Congratulations, Yuuri!  I knew you could do it!  You’re going to the Grand Prix Final!</em>
</p>
<p>As soon as the medal ceremony had finished, Yuuri was reaching for his cell phone from the JSF representative to call his coach (Viktor was a bit offended by that, repeating over and over that “<em>Your favorite coach is right here</em>,” but eventually, his light-hearted complaints subsided).  Yuuri heard Celestino’s warm chuckle as soon as the line connected.  “Why, Yuuri, it’s almost as if you don’t need me after all!”</p>
<p>Yuuri spluttered.  “What?!  Of course I need you!  You’re my coach.  I am where I am – <em>who</em> I am – because of you.”</p>
<p>“Yuuri,” Celestino said, sounding oddly stern for a congratulatory call, “you are where you are because you have worked harder than anyone I’ve ever met.  You are <em>who</em> you are because you decided that you wanted to reach spectacular heights that most athletes can only dream of.  You are where you are by your own power – I’ve just helped guide you.  I’m so proud to be your coach.”</p>
<p>There was a lump stuck in Yuuri’s throat, making it hard for him to swallow.  He opened his mouth to speak, to thank his coach, but only an odd croaking sound came out.  Finally, he was able to clear his throat, barely holding back tears.  “I wanted to meet Viktor Nikiforov on the ice,” Yuuri admitted, his voice no more than a whisper.  “I am where I am because of him – because he inspired me.  And now, I skate <em>for </em>him.  I hope he’d be…proud of me,” Yuuri said to both his coach on the phone and his partner sharing his body.</p>
<p>Celestino was oddly silent for a moment, not usually one to be at a loss for words.  “I did wonder why you were so insistent on skating his free program this year.  That makes a lot of sense.  I’m sure he’d be proud of you, Yuuri.”</p>
<p><em>And I am</em>.</p>
<p>“I’ll let you go now – you should be celebrating your win <em>and</em> your qualification for the Finals.  I’ll see you when you get back.”  The line disconnected, and Yuuri was left to steady his breathing as tears threatened to spill over once more.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri… </em>Viktor crooned.  <em>I wish I could skate on the same ice as you instead of just skating </em>as<em> you.</em></p>
<p>“This is enough,” Yuuri whispered instead, and his body was filled with a warm feeling of lo-</p>
<p>No.  Definitely not <em>that.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri, I wish I could tell you that I-</em>
</p>
<p>“Yuuri Katsuki!”</p>
<p>Whatever Viktor wanted to tell Yuuri would have to wait – the press conference was beginning, and Yuuri was needed.  He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the reporters’ questions, the translator, <em>and</em> Viktor at the same time.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>The next day was a whirlwind between interviews, gala practice, the actual gala performances, and needing to make it to the airport for a redeye flight home, so Yuuri never had the chance to hear what Viktor needed to say.</p>
<p>The time difference hit Yuuri hard; he awoke in the early hours of the morning, even before the sun had risen.  He crept out of his room, making it to the kitchen before he let out a deep, shaky breath.  He looked into the mirror behind the couch to see his face.  “Viktor,” he said.</p>
<p><em>Good morning, звезда моя</em>, Viktor greeted him, cheerful as he somehow always was.</p>
<p>“There’s something I need to do today.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh?  What’s that?</em>
</p>
<p>“There’s something I need to do – alone.”</p>
<p><em>Yuuri…  </em>Viktor sounded reluctant – scared, even.</p>
<p>“Please, Viktor.  I’ll keep you with me in my bag all day, I just…<em>please</em>,” Yuuri pleaded.  “It’s nothing bad.  I just need some privacy, that’s all.”</p>
<p>
  <em>…okay.  Keep me close.</em>
</p>
<p>“Always, Viktor.  I won’t let you go.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri was lucky that Celestino was a morning person.  He was already in his office at the rink looking over that day’s training plan again before the skaters arrived.</p>
<p>“Hi, Coach,” Yuuri said hesitantly.</p>
<p>“There’s my medalist!”  Pausing, Celestino squinted at Yuuri’s appearance.  “You look nervous.  Is something wrong?”</p>
<p>Yuuri hummed noncommittally.  “Not wrong, really.”</p>
<p>“Well, then, what is it?”</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Yuuri said, “I want to change my free program.”</p>
<p>“What?!” Celestino squawked.  “But Yuuri,” he protested, “there’s only two weeks until the Final!  You want to change your free program <em>now</em>?”</p>
<p>“Not the whole thing!  Just…little changes.  The ending needs to change.”</p>
<p>“The ending?” his coach asked, leaning forward on his desk to rest his chin on his raised hands.  “But Yuuri…the program has been growing so well this season.  Do you really think it’s wise to change it when you’ve been scoring so well?  I think you have a real chance of making the podium at the Final.”</p>
<p>Yuuri had known this – he’d done the calculations, compared his results to the other competitors, considered how each program change would affect his results – but hearing his <em>coach</em> say he had a chance to win a medal was something very different.  For a moment, he second-guessed his decision.</p>
<p>But- no.  This was important.  This meant more to him than any medal ever could, so he said, “I’m sure.  I need your help to make it perfect.”</p>
<p>Sighing, Celestino nodded.  “If you’re certain, Yuuri; you know what’s best in your programs and what feels best for you.  What can I do to help?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri arrives at the Grand Prix Final and performs his short program; meanwhile, something seems to be bothering Viktor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Unlike arriving at his previous qualifier events, Yuuri could feel eyes on him as soon as he stepped off the plane.  Reporters were waiting just outside the airport terminal, all of them hoping to get early interviews with the athletes and snap photos for promotional pieces.  Celestino hurried Yuuri through the airport as quickly as possible, and they finally made it to their hotel.</p>
<p>“Well,” Celestino said lightly, “that was fun.”</p>
<p>Yuuri had to laugh.  “I mean, if you like being hounded by paparazzi…”</p>
<p>“Just wait until you’ve got a Grand Prix Final medal around your neck,” Celestino told him.  “Even more people will want a photo of you then.”</p>
<p>Yuuri ducked his head.  Despite the last year having produced podium-worthy results at every competition, it was still jarring to think of himself earning a Grand Prix Final medal.</p>
<p>Viktor must have detected the uncertainty Yuuri was feeling.  <em>You’ve been incredible this season, Yuuri; if you are on that podium this week, it’ll be because you’ve earned it.</em></p>
<p>Celestino ordered room service for the two of them, opting for a quiet night in rather than going to a restaurant and further tiring themselves out after a long day of travel.  Halfway through a meal of roasted chicken and potatoes, something relatively normal that Yuuri felt comfortable eating so close to a competition, Viktor nudged him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey, Yuuri?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri paused, his fork halfway to his mouth as he sent a wave of curiosity back to Viktor.</p>
<p><em>Oh, uh…never mind.  I forgot Ciao Ciao was here; sorry,</em> Viktor told him awkwardly, which only left Yuuri feeling confused.  <em>It’s…don’t worry about it, Yuuri.</em></p>
<p>But it was <em>Yuuri</em>.  Of <em>course</em> he would worry about that for the next two hours as he prepared to go to sleep, eventually tucking into the soft hotel bed and taking matters into his own hands.</p>
<p>Knocking quietly on the door to Viktor’s rink, Yuuri entered to find Viktor skating his <em>Stammi Vicino</em> program, eyes closed as he moved across the ice to music that played only in Viktor’s mind.  His abilities were just as perfect as they were the day he’d died.  Yuuri watched in silence until Viktor came to rest at the end of the program, breathing slightly heavily.</p>
<p>“Viktor?” Yuuri murmured, knowing that the man would be able to hear him even at such a distance.</p>
<p>Eyes flying open, Viktor turned to meet his gaze.  “Yuuri?  What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>The question startled Yuuri.  Hesitating for a second too long, he asked, “Do you want me to leave?  I didn’t mean to intrude, it’s just-”</p>
<p>“No!” Viktor protested immediately.  “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”  He skated to the edge of the rink, stepping off the ice onto the concrete.  Unlike in the real world, his blades never seemed to dull.  Viktor reached for Yuuri’s hand, holding it gently for a moment.  “I thought you’d be resting.”</p>
<p>“I was worried about you,” Yuuri told him, squeezing Viktor’s hand reassuringly.  “You seemed like you wanted to talk to me earlier, and with Celestino in the room…”</p>
<p>Viktor looked down at the floor, seemingly embarrassed.  “I’m sorry.  It was nothing.”</p>
<p>Raising his other hand to brush the stray strands of silver hair away from Viktor’s eyes, Yuuri shook his head.  “It’s not nothing if you feel the need to talk about it.  You know I’m here.”</p>
<p>Viktor grimaced, then met Yuuri’s gaze once more.  “I’m just…nervous,” he said eventually.</p>
<p>“About what?”</p>
<p>“Well, Chris will be there, and…just seeing everyone I used to know.  This is the first time I- <em>we’re</em> seeing all of them together when you know I’m here.”  Viktor gave him a reassuring smile.  “Really, everything I’m feeling…it’s just something I need to work through by myself.  I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”</p>
<p>Yuuri accepted Viktor’s words, but they still felt distinctly <em>off</em> in his brain.  It was Viktor, though.  Viktor wouldn’t lie to Yuuri, and if something were really <em>wrong</em> that warranted Yuuri’s worry, he was fairly certain Viktor would tell him about it.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>The short program arrived two days later.  Yuuri’s had been a bit jetlagged for the morning practice the day before, but a quick nap in the afternoon helped get him over the tiredness, and his evening practice went much more smoothly.  By the time competition arrived, Yuuri just wanted to get it over with so his nerves would stop devouring him from the inside out.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri?</em> Viktor said as he was stretching in the athlete’s area.  His warmup on the ice was just a few minutes away.</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Yuuri said as softly as he could, glancing at the other athletes around him: Chris, Michele, Georgi…</p>
<p>Viktor was quiet, and Yuuri was tempted to risk saying more, but Viktor beat him to it.  <em>I…I guess I’m just a bit nostalgic.</em></p>
<p>“Completely understandable,” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p>“What was that, Yuuri?” Celestino asked from where he was seated out of the way against the wall.</p>
<p>“Uh, nothing, Coach!  Just talking to myself,” Yuuri said with a forced laugh.</p>
<p>“You’ve got two minutes until your warmup.  Make sure you’re ready to get on the ice,” Celestino reminded him.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Yuuri said, stepping away to a more secluded corner and turning to face a wall so nobody could see him speak.  “You okay, Viktor?”</p>
<p><em>I’ll be fine.  It’s…it’s a </em>me<em> thing, not a </em>you<em> thing.  You just need to go skate like the star you are, and I’ll sort myself out later.</em></p>
<p>“If you’re sure…”</p>
<p>
  <em>I am.  Go skate your heart out, звезда моя.</em>
</p>
<p>Thirty minutes later, Yuuri did just that.  His first two jumps were flawless, but he went into his final combination late in the program with too much vigor.  Something happened on the takeoff – Yuuri wasn’t sure <em>what</em>, exactly, but he’d certainly look back at the footage later.  He landed too early, his blade skidding as the remaining quarter rotation was finished on the ice.  <em>Damn</em>, Yuuri thought, but he dug his toe pick deep into the ice, forcing himself into the air for the triple toe loop.  It was landed fully rotated, albeit at nearly a standstill.</p>
<p>
  <em>That’s okay, Yuuri – good job getting that combination done.</em>
</p>
<p>By the time Yuuri finished his program, he was feeling tentatively optimistic about his score.  It certainly wasn’t his best performance, and the under rotation would take a few points, but the rest had been clean.</p>
<p>It seemed his thoughts were accurate when the score was announced a few minutes later.  “Yuuri Katsuki has earned in the short program 102.00 points.  He is currently in first place.”</p>
<p><em>Yuuri…</em> Viktor said in an odd tone, but Yuuri brushed it off.  If Viktor had more thoughts on his score or performance today, he would surely tell him later.</p>
<p>By the time the remaining skaters had gone, Yuuri found himself in third place, but the gap between him and Chris, currently in first, was only five points.  Depending on their performances in the free program, it could be anyone’s win.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Whatever was bothering Viktor seemed to get worse the following day during Yuuri’s official practice.  Initially, Yuuri could feel a combination of curiosity and – just as Viktor had described it – nostalgia, but there was another feeling he couldn’t put a name to.  Yuuri took to the ice for his practice, doing his best to stay focused despite Viktor’s oddly distracting comments.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri</em>…</p>
<p>Yuuri faltered on the landing on his triple axel as he heard Viktor call his name.  “What?” Yuuri muttered, hoping anyone that heard him would assume he was questioning his own landing or the ice beneath his blades.</p>
<p>
  <em>Sorry…I didn’t mean to distract you.  It won’t happen again.</em>
</p>
<p>Luckily, it didn’t – at least, it didn’t happen when Yuuri was in the middle of a jump, but the odd feeling from grew stronger after Yuuri did his full run-through to his updated free program music.  Viktor hadn’t asked in the past two weeks about the changes, and Yuuri hadn’t offered any explanation.</p>
<p>Standing off to the side to get a drink of water while Celestino offered some feedback, Viktor spoke again.</p>
<p>
  <em>Chris…</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri paused at the thought, his eyes still lingering on his Swiss competitor across the rink.</p>
<p>
  <em>I wish I could tell him the truth.  Nobody would believe me, though.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri wanted to counter that ‘Phichit believed you,’ but the crowd of people around the rink prevented him from doing that.</p>
<p><em>He and I were…well, he was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend,</em> Viktor continued.  Yuuri wasn’t sure if Viktor was trying to explain something or if he was simply talking to himself, but he always managed to capture Yuuri’s attention, even with his disjointed musings.  <em>I liked to think it was a healthy rivalry: I pushed him, he pushed me…I always came out on top, but I got very lucky with my peaks during the season.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri had to agree with that statement.  In his younger days, Yuuri had always had trouble timing the peaks in his training cycle.  They were always a week too early or too late, and it took him years to identify when his peaks and troughs were about to occur and how to adjust his training schedule when he noticed those cues.</p>
<p><em>The media and the fans, though…even the commentators – or </em>especially <em>the commentators – liked to paint it like we hated each other’s guts and were only skating to win, not because we both genuinely love this sport.  Any time we were photographed together outside competition, people would speculate that we were somehow trying to sabotage each other.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri definitely remembered seeing <em>those</em> comments online.  He’d done his best to steer clear of them, but there was only so much he could do to avoid the internet trolls – and since there were only so many places to get Viktor Nikiforov content in good quality, sometimes tolerating the toxic comments was the only way to go.</p>
<p>A short distance away from Chris and his coach, Yakov was giving feedback to Georgi.  Yakov had seemed to age a decade in just a few short years, the stress lines on his forehead growing more pronounced much more quickly than they should have.</p>
<p><em>I wish…I wish I could have told them how much they meant to me</em>, Viktor said as he watched through Yuuri’s eyes as his old coach and training mate interacted across the rink, <em>although I don’t know if Georgi would have cared.</em></p>
<p>There were too many people around for Yuuri to answer with words, so he hoped sending a wave of comfort to Viktor would be enough until they were in a more private setting.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yakov especially…I mean, we saw how he was interacting with Yura at the qualifier events, and now with Georgi?  It seems like he’s…hollow.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri wished he were able to say, ‘Of course he seems <em>hollow</em>, his skater died on his watch!’  Then again, maybe it was better that he couldn’t – the words would have been too harsh, even if they were true.</p>
<p>“…are you listening to me, Yuuri?” Celestino was saying.</p>
<p>Yuuri turned quickly back to his coach, trying to refocus.  “Sorry, Coach.  I just…”</p>
<p>“Maybe we should stop for the day.”</p>
<p>“But practice isn’t over yet!” Yuuri protested, glancing up at the large clock in the arena.</p>
<p>“There’s only ten minutes left – nobody will think badly of you if you leave a little early,” Celestino suggested.</p>
<p>Yuuri glanced back at the Russian delegation again, still feeling the wistful longing coming from Viktor.  Finally, he nodded to his coach.  “Yeah, maybe that’s best.  I don’t want to overdo it.”</p>
<p>“Smart man.  Go take a bow, and I’ll meet you at the exit.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's time for Yuuri's free program at the Grand Prix Final, but Viktor has a (very poorly timed) confession to make.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Back at the hotel to rest before the free program later that night, Yuuri couldn’t push away the thoughts of Yakov’s behavior and Viktor’s worries and Georgi and Chris and…</p>
<p>For a moment, Yuuri wondered whether all of this was worth it: sharing his body with Viktor, the intense training, all the sacrifices he’d made and lies he’d told in the last year.  Was it all worth it in exchange for a few good programs?</p>
<p>Was it worth all the stress to have Viktor?</p>
<p>Almost as quickly as the thought has barreled its way into his mind, Yuuri quashed it.  Of course it was worth it – it would all have been worth it even if he wasn’t a skater and Viktor was just a man.  It was <em>Viktor</em>.  All his work had been to get closer to…to <em>something</em> for Viktor, and this was just one more step.</p>
<p>Hours later, Yuuri had already been on the ice for his six-minute warmup and was trying to keep his head clear while he waited for his turn to skate.  Earbuds in, Yuuri walked through his free skate for the third time, marking all his spins and pushing himself into his jumps.  The stress of the Final was getting to him a little, but Yuuri was determined to skate for himself and not allow – or force – Viktor to skate for him again.</p>
<p><em>Yuuri</em>.</p>
<p>Yuuri paused in the middle of practicing the movements of his program, waiting for Viktor to go on.</p>
<p><em>I need to tell you something.  And…now probably isn’t the best time, but I can’t keep it in anymore, and-  </em>Yuuri’s inquisitive feeling was as good as a verbal question.  <em>I’m sorry, it’s just – I love you, Yuuri.  I know it’s different for you and that you can’t</em> <em>feel the same way with how things are, but I needed to tell you.</em></p>
<p>“What?” Yuuri breathed out, his entire body going rigid.</p>
<p><em>It’s okay.  I won’t bring it up again.  I’m grateful for what you’ve given me – for the existence you’ve allowed me to have and our time together in </em>here<em>.  I’d be selfish to hope for any more than that.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri looked quickly around the backstage area, seeing reporters milling about, volunteers everywhere, his competitors warming up nearby – this wasn’t a safe place for a conversation.</p>
<p>“I’ll be right back.  Uh, bathroom,” Yuuri muttered to Celestino, walking quickly to the restroom down the hallway and locking the door behind him.  He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment before opening them and leaning against the sink.</p>
<p>“After everything we’ve been through, you think something as stupid as having a body would keep me from loving you?  You think I can’t – <em>don’t</em> – love you?” Yuuri whispered harshly in the empty bathroom, watching as his eyes flashed from brown to blue and back again as he struggled to keep his emotions under control, his competition anxiety warring with the shock Viktor had suddenly caused.  “You think I don’t…don’t <em>feel</em> you with every fiber of my being?”  And there they went: solid brown again, a feeling of frustration flooding his body.  “<em>Watch me,</em>” he commanded, lifting the necklace from his skin and unclasping it before Viktor could protest.</p>
<p>Yuuri hurried back to the warmup area, fully aware that he needed to be on the ice soon.</p>
<p>“You alright?” Celestino asked when he returned.</p>
<p>“I’m fine, Coach.  Can you hold onto this for me?” Yuuri asked, holding the necklace out to him.</p>
<p>“Absolutely,” Celestino said, taking the necklace and going to tuck it into his breast pocket.</p>
<p>“Uh, actually-” Celestino stopped mid-movement.  “That’s…it’s from Phichit, and I don’t want anything to happen to it while I skate, but it helps to…be able to see it,” he said quickly.  “Would you wear it for me?  That way it stays safe, and I can see it for luck.”</p>
<p>Celestino chuckled, but he eased the necklace over his head nonetheless.  “Whatever helps you.  We all have good luck charms and rituals – it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Yuuri.”</p>
<p>Yuuri smiled weakly, fully aware that Viktor could now <em>see </em>him.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Coach,” Yuuri said – and he meant both of them.</p>
<p>Yuuri, having landed in third place after the short program, would be going second to last.  He’d have to wait through one more skater, alone in his body in public for the first time in…god, how long <em>had</em> it been?  Yuuri had gotten so used to having Viktor there, a constant comforting presence even if they weren’t talking.</p>
<p>Somehow, he’d forgotten just how active his internal monologue used to be.  Sharing a body now, his mind was often filled with Viktor’s impressions of where they were or random factoids from his life.  Yuuri hadn’t realized how much those had quelled his own anxiety.  He couldn’t let that same anxiety get the best of him, though, despite its efforts to make him tremble as the skater before him finished up.  All too soon, he was on the ice.</p>
<p>For the first half of the program, he allowed himself to skate on pure muscle memory.  He and Viktor had practiced the program enough times that he could do it in his sleep even without music – and, occasionally, he did just that when he visited Viktor’s soul room on restless nights.</p>
<p>Halfway through the program, Yuuri was pulled sharply back to his conscious thoughts.  He landed his triple lutz funny, forced to step out of the landing to keep his balance.  With only three jumping passes left, if he wanted to keep the points from the triple toe loop that was supposed to be in combination with his triple lutz, he’d need to add it to one of his quad flips.</p>
<p><em>I can do this</em>, he vowed to himself.  If the star pendant were around his neck, he was sure Viktor would have said the same.</p>
<p>Although the emotional connection to the program was as easy to tap into as it was for him to breath – he was skating his love for Viktor, and loving Viktor could <em>never</em> be hard for him – the step sequence that followed his triple lutz was unnecessarily complicated, and he needed to focus.</p>
<p>The changes Yuuri and Celestino had made to the step sequence might have been subtle to the average viewer, but it had been changed to give it a bit more flair and to convey that he was reaching for <em>someone</em>.  He hadn’t explained it to Viktor before, but as Yuuri flew across the ice, moving quickly to stay in time with the music, he maintained as much eye contact with Viktor – well, Celestino – as he could.  He needed his message to get across.</p>
<p>Then came the final sixty seconds of the program.  Despite Celestino’s fears, Yuuri felt even more comfortable with the program as it was now than before.</p>
<p>Triple axel-half loop-triple flip – easy.  Next came the first quad flip.  Yuuri landed for a moment, then picked hard into the ice to get enough power for a fully rotated triple toe loop.  It might not have been the prettiest combination, but it would get him the points he needed.  The last jump, usually a solo quad flip, turned into a quad flip-double toe loop.  With all three of Yuuri’s combinations inadvertently in the second half, the extra points would hopefully buffer his mistake from earlier.</p>
<p>At the very end of the music, Yuuri had requested one more change; he had asked Phichit to help him record his own voice.  The music needed two words in plain English so that there could be no mistaking what the program was about now.  When mixed into the music, they were preceded by a deep, calming inhale: “<em>For you.”</em>  The breath was let out, quiet as a gentle summer wind as it rode above the lingering notes of the music.</p>
<p>Yuuri had suspected Viktor might have thought the changes were for him before, but there was no was no mistaking it now.  He froze into his final pose, head leaned back towards the heavens, one hand clasped tight against his chest as if clutching an invisible necklace right over his heart, the other stretched out toward Celestino – toward <em>Viktor.</em></p>
<p><em>For you, Viktor,</em> Yuuri thought, finally turning to stare directly at the necklace on his coach’s chest.  <em>This used to be for the old you – now, this program is for the one I love – </em>you.</p>
<p>The roar of the crowd had rolled through the stadium long before Yuuri had finished moving, but he only heard it seconds after the music stopped.  Even with all the noise, Yuuri’s mind was still unnaturally quiet.  There was no feeling of shoving each other out of the way, no comments from Viktor about what had gone well and what would need to be improved…</p>
<p>He waved to the crowd, picking up a stuffed bear as he stepped off the ice into Celestino’s waiting arms.  Yuuri could feel the press of the star-shaped charm against his chest through his thin costume.</p>
<p>“That was incredible, Yuuri!  Well done.”  Yuuri grinned weakly, the fatigue finally catching up to him.  “Here you go,” Celestino said, holding out Yuuri’s jacket.  “Now let’s go see what everyone else thought.”</p>
<p>The wait felt longer than ever before – he wanted to do well, but he mostly just wanted to talk to Viktor.  He needed to know that Viktor had watched him, that Viktor <em>saw</em> him and understood the message he’d sent.</p>
<p>“The scores, please,” the announcer finally said.  “Yuuri Katsuki has earned 207.14 points for a total score of 309.14, a new season’s best.  He is currently in first place.”</p>
<p>Celestino’s cheered, his arms wrapping around Yuuri as the skater let out a shriek of delight.  He had known he’d done well – he could feel it in the flow of his jumps, the way he let his emotions speak for him on the ice – but with his mistake on the triple lutz, he hadn’t anticipated that he’d earned a season’s best free program score by more than ten points.</p>
<p>“You did it!” his coach told him, giving him a sharp pat on the back before the next skater was announced on the ice – the final skater.  Yuuri was guaranteed gold or silver.</p>
<p>The crowd quieted down as Yuuri and Celestino stood, making their way to the back of the arena.  Yuuri eagerly took his necklace back from his coach as soon as they were out of the kiss and cry, slipping the delicate chain over his head and relishing in the familiar weight on his chest.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri…</em>
</p>
<p>“Viktor,” Yuuri murmured, grateful for the noise of the reporters swarming around them to drown out his voice.</p>
<p><em>I’m sorry.</em>  Yuuri’s confusion was enough prompting for Viktor to continue.  <em>I was wrong.  I shouldn’t have accused you of…when you…Yuuri, I love you.  And…I know you love me.  You showed it to the whole world, even if they don’t understand.  I can never repay you for everything you’ve done for me – everything you’re </em>still <em>doing for me, never leaving me – </em>loving me<em>…god, Yuuri, I-</em></p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Yuuri told him under his breath.  “It’s okay.  We can talk about it later.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>“Well, well,” Chris crooned, grinning down at him from the middle of the podium, Michele on his other side, “look at our rising star.  You’re something else, Yuuri Katsuki.  Something special.”  Yuuri grinned back, basking for a moment in the sheer overwhelming joy of having won silver at the Grand Prix Final <em>all by himself</em>.  “Something like…”</p>
<p>Whatever Yuuri was like, though, was cut off by the first notes of the Swiss national anthem.</p>
<p><em>I’m proud of you,</em> Viktor told him as they listened to the music.  <em>You’re incredible, звезда моя.</em></p>
<p>It wouldn’t have been polite for Yuuri to respond during Chris’ national anthem, and he couldn’t reply anyway without drawing attention from the thousands of spectators and the cameras placed everywhere.  Nevertheless, Yuuri was sure Viktor knew just how much those words meant to him.  He could certainly feel the warmth flooding Yuuri’s body, the blood rushing to his cheeks as he flushed.</p>
<p>The skaters took their victory lap and the ceremony soon ended; all three skaters were met at the boards by their coaches.  Yuuri was the first one off the ice, leaning against the boards to put his skate guards on when a man approached him.  “Congratulations on your silver medal, Katsuki,” the man offered.</p>
<p>“Yuuri!  This is Josef, my coach,” Chris offered with a grin, stepping off the ice next to him.  “Yuuri’s going to give me a run for my podium spot,” he said with a warm chuckle, patting Yuuri firmly on the back.</p>
<p>His coach looked uncomfortable, offering a strained smile.  “Yes, well – you don’t have time for chit-chat, Chris.  Get yourself ready for the interviews,” his coach said sternly.  “They’ll all want to talk with the champion, after all.”  Almost as an afterthought, the coach added, “Don’t be late for the press conference, Katsuki.”</p>
<p>Nodding obediently despite the man’s brusque demeanor, Yuuri headed towards the athlete’s area, stepping behind the curtains that separated the audience from their privacy – and froze, nearly making Chris crash into him.</p>
<p>It was a good thing Viktor couldn’t hear Yuuri’s thoughts – a really, <em>really</em> good thing considering how frequently those thoughts drifted to memories of how appealing Viktor looked in his skating costumes.  (Yuuri was sure if Viktor knew, he’d never live it down.)  In this particular instance, though, Yuuri’s thoughts were much less intimate.  Rather, he was thinking about the email he’d sent months before and the waiting list his name was on somewhere in a rink in Saint Petersburg.</p>
<p>Celestino was deep in conversation with Yakov, which made Viktor’s consciousness perk up in Yuuri’s mind.  <em>I didn’t know Yakov knew Ciao Ciao that well,</em> Viktor said.</p>
<p>Yuuri stepped to the side to let the others behind him into the area and hummed in response, the most he could get away with in public – and really, how would he tell Viktor, ‘Oh hey, by the way, I submitted an application and was put on a waiting list to take a masterclass with your coach so that I could get you back to your rink to see everyone but especially your dog?’  (He was pretty sure there was no easy way to explain <em>any</em> of that, so he’d simply chosen not to mention it – and Yuuri really hoped his coach’s conversation was about anything <em>but </em>his failed application.)</p>
<p>Unfortunately, it seemed that <em>now</em> was the time for Viktor to learn all of that as Yuuri approached the two coaches, the silver medal hanging heavily around his neck.</p>
<p>“Yuuri!  Well done!” Celestino cheered, wrapping Yuuri in another hug and clapping him firmly on the back.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Coach,” Yuuri said weakly, the reality of the situation finally hitting him: he still had a dead World Champion inhabiting his body, and that skater’s coach was standing right in front of him.</p>
<p>“Congratulations, Katsuki,” Yakov stated, reaching out a hand for Yuuri’s as soon as he was freed from his coach’s arms.  “You will certainly be an asset to our masterclass next week.  I hope you’ll find it educational.”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s eyes widened.</p>
<p><em>Masterclass? </em>Viktor echoed.</p>
<p>“I’ve arranged everything with Celestino already.  We’ve swapped your flight home from Detroit to Saint Petersburg.  No sense flying halfway around the world only to come back a few days later; you’ll train with us in the meantime.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Saint Petersburg?</em>
</p>
<p>“So soon?” Yuuri said, shocked and very concerned about his tight training schedule.</p>
<p>
  <em>…Yuuri?</em>
</p>
<p>“I had a cancellation.  If you’re worried about Japanese Nationals, I can assure you that I am a <em>very</em> competent coach, and I will be communicating with Celestino every day.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?!</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri was starting to get overwhelmed.  His medal ceremony had just finished, Coach Feltsman was suddenly inviting him for a masterclass <em>next week</em>, and Viktor was prodding his mind incessantly.  “I- Celestino?”</p>
<p>Celestino smiled.  “If you feel comfortable training there, I think it would be a good idea.  You did well at your qualifier all by yourself; I hardly think a week of training with a world-class coach will affect you negatively in any way,” he explained.</p>
<p>“Really?” Yuuri asked hopefully.</p>
<p>“Absolutely,” Celestino assured him.  “Yakov, be gentle with him.”</p>
<p>Yakov <em>harrumphed</em> without any real annoyance.  “I know how to coach.  I dare say I’ve been doing it longer than you’ve been alive.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yakov…?</em>
</p>
<p>“I- this all sounds amazing.  I would love to go to your masterclass, sir,” Yuuri finally agreed.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?</em>
</p>
<p>“Good,” the man grunted.  “I’ll send you the travel details by email tonight.  I couldn’t get you on the same flight as mine, but you’re booked on the very next one.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, sir,” Yuuri said in awe.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri.</em>
</p>
<p>“We’ll talk more about this later,” Celestino told Yuuri.</p>
<p><em>Yes.  We will,</em> Viktor agreed sternly.</p>
<p>“For now, let’s get you to that press conference and then celebrate your medal!  <em>Second place</em>, Yuuri!  I’m so proud of you!” his coach exclaimed, patting him on the back as Yakov left them to go attend to Georgi.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Our boys are going to Russia!</p>
<p>(Side note: from a coaching standpoint, I realize it was insanely stupid of Yuuri to go to a masterclass the week before a major competition, but hey...that's fanfic!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Viktor and Yuuri finally discuss Saint Petersburg.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Viktor waited to bring up the topic of Yuuri’s trip to Saint Petersburg until it was nearly bedtime.  Yuuri had begun to stress over Viktor’s silence and the impending conversation, so he decided to make the first move.  They’d be discussing things one way or another, after all.</p>
<p>Yuuri slipped into his beach, pausing for a moment to steady himself as he took in the soothing waves against the shoreline before going in search of his companion.  He didn’t have to search too hard; Viktor was just outside Yuuri’s door, hand poised to knock.</p>
<p>“Let’s talk in here,” Yuuri offered, walking with Viktor in strained silence until they settled on the sand side by side.  Neither man looked at the other, their eyes instead cast over the open ocean.</p>
<p>“You didn’t tell me that you were applying for one of Yakov’s programs,” Viktor finally stated as they watched the waves crest against the beach and retreat again and again.</p>
<p>Yuuri was quiet for a long minute before finally acknowledging, “No, I didn’t.  And you didn’t need to claim I didn’t <em>love you</em> right before my free program,” he countered.</p>
<p>Viktor clenched his jaw but chose to ignore the accusation.  “Keeping something like that from me…an application?  Those take a lot of time to complete.  I see <em>everything </em>you see<em>, </em>Yuuri; you know that, which means that you were specifically trying to make sure I <em>didn’t</em> know about this.”</p>
<p>There was no point in telling Viktor that yes, he’d really tried to keep Viktor out of this decision, since Viktor seemed to know that already.  “What do you want me to say, Viktor?” Yuuri asked instead.  “We’re going to Saint Petersburg.  I thought you’d be happy about that,” Yuuri said as he watched the perpetual sunset: always beautiful yet unnerving in its unchanging position in the sky.</p>
<p>“I want you to- to- you <em>lied </em>to me, Yuuri!” Viktor said harshly.  “You let me use your body, but yet you lied to me.  You don’t really <em>trust </em>me.”</p>
<p>Recoiling slightly, Yuuri turned away from the sky to face Viktor, the man’s heartbroken face streaked with tears.  “Viktor, where is all this <em>coming </em>from?  I thought we’d moved on from the trust issues after what you did at the Challenger event.”  It was a low blow, and Yuuri felt guilty as soon as the words left his mouth.</p>
<p>“<em>You </em>might have moved on from it, but I couldn’t.  Not again,” Viktor bit out.  “You – <em>everyone </em>– just pushes me away.”</p>
<p>“I- Viktor, that wasn’t what I was trying to do!”  Viktor was silent.  “I wasn’t trying to- I-” Yuuri stammered, frantically searching for words that could make this situation better.  “Viktor, you’d said you’d forgiven me for that!”</p>
<p>“And I <em>had</em>!” Viktor yelled, his voice shattering the unnatural quiet of the beach.  The waves were hardly moving now, the usual breezing missing.  Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, his shoulders shaking.  “I <em>had</em>, Yuuri – or at least I’d <em>tried</em> to!  But…just because I <em>forgave</em> you doesn’t mean I’m not still hurting from it and living with the fear of…of being locked out again and not <em>knowing </em>that it’s happened.”  Viktor took a shaky breath, blinking his eyes open through the sticky tears.  “Yuuri, when you locked me away like that, I didn’t know <em>anything</em>.  Just like when I- <em>died</em> the first time, my last memory is right before you locked me away.  Everything in the middle?  It didn’t exist for me.  And the fact that you have the power to do that <em>again</em>?  Maybe <em>permanently</em> next time, just like the others did?”</p>
<p>Yuuri resisted the urge to draw Viktor into his arms.  As much as he wanted to comfort the other man, Yuuri didn’t think it would help at the moment.  “‘Like the others did?’” Yuuri echoed, struggling to keep his voice steady.  “Viktor, I’m not a murderer.  You’ve been with me long enough to know that, and I- I <em>love </em>you.  I promised you that I won’t just get <em>rid </em>of you, Viktor.  You would know beforehand if we were going to…to <em>end </em>this, and you would have <em>every </em>opportunity to do whatever final things you wanted.”</p>
<p>Viktor scoffed, glancing at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye.  “That’s what you said before, and then you went and- and- <em>got rid of me</em>!”</p>
<p>A strangled sob escaped Yuuri’s throat.  “I didn’t <em>mean to</em>!  I did <em>everything </em>I could to get you back.  I- you- Viktor, I thought you understood that!”</p>
<p>Viktor shut his eyes again, breathing in sharply.  “I did- I <em>do</em>, Yuuri, but-”</p>
<p>“I made a <em>mistake</em>.  You did, too, but we won’t get <em>anywhere</em> if you keep throwing it back in my face!”</p>
<p>“I thought you’d <em>learned </em>from that, though, Yuuri,” Viktor hissed.  “And yet you still…shut me out again.  You intentionally kept secrets from me.”</p>
<p>“Because I was trying to do something <em>for you, </em>Viktor.”</p>
<p>“You should have asked me, though!” Viktor boomed, his hands tightening into fists with his frustration.  “Even if you didn’t mention Russia, you could have just told me you needed a few minutes alone, like that day you were…well, I guess you were changing your free program.”  Viktor took a deep breath, his seething rage cooling to a carefully measured anger, which was somehow more terrifying.  “I’m tired of feeling like I’m forcing my way into other people’s lives and burdening them with my presence.  I’m tired of being an afterthought.  I tried <em>not</em> to feel like this, but…”</p>
<p>Eyes wide and lips parted slightly, Yuuri murmured, “<em>Viktor</em>…” but the other man remained resolutely silent.  “Viktor, you are not a burden, and I wasn’t trying to make you feel less than me in any way.  We both have to share one body.”</p>
<p>“Yes.  <em>Yours</em>.”</p>
<p>Yuuri paused, then conceded.  “Yes.  It’s my body.  It’s my life that may one day go back to being just mine, or we may stay like this forever.  I’ve tried to give you as much freedom as I can, Viktor, but at least you have the illusion of privacy most of the time.  I don’t.”</p>
<p>Viktor was silent, caught somewhere between his simmering anger and reluctant acceptance.</p>
<p>“Viktor…?” Yuuri prompted.</p>
<p>“Why lie to me, though?!” Viktor pled, his fist pounding against the sand.  “Why try to keep me from finding out about Russia?”</p>
<p>“Because I was trying to <em>help you</em>, Viktor!  You wanted to be close to your rink family again, and you wanted to get your goodbyes in, and you wanted to see Makkachin, and this was the best way I could think of to do that for you!”  Viktor’s jaw dropped, but whether it was from Yuuri’s words or his unusually bold tone, Yuuri wasn’t sure.  More quietly, Yuuri said, “I didn’t want you to find out before I had an answer and be disappointed.  And if I didn’t get accepted for one of Yakov’s masterclasses, which is what <em>had </em>happened until today…well, I would have just found another way to get to Russia and get you where you needed to be, even if it took me the rest of my life.  I didn’t want you to know I’d failed you again.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s whole body sagged as if the weight of all his frustrations had finally left him after much too long.  “…I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he murmured.  “I didn’t mean to snap at you.  It’s just…I…”  His voice cracked, tears dripping to the sand.  “I don’t know how to deal with this – <em>all </em>of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely around the beach, then hesitantly resting his hand next to Yuuri’s so their fingers brushed.  “I thought I was getting better at processing things, but then seeing everyone – seeing Georgi and Chris and <em>Yakov</em> – all moving on while I’m just stuck – stuck in a necklace and stuck in a body that’s not my own and stuck at 24…”</p>
<p>“Viktor…” Yuuri murmured.  “If going to Saint Petersburg is too much…”</p>
<p>Viktor didn’t say anything for a long minute, and Yuuri was worried that he’d overstepped.  He’d need to call Yakov to withdraw from the masterclass and arrange a new flight home, but if Viktor didn’t want to go, then Yuuri certainly wasn’t going to force-</p>
<p>“No,” Viktor said firmly.  “I want to go.  I want to see Yakov and my rink mates and…and if we can manage it somehow, I want to see Makkachin.  I wanted – <em>want </em>– all those things, but I didn’t have time to consider <em>how </em>this could all happen, and now with just days until I…until I’m home again?  Yuuri, I’m <em>terrified</em>.”</p>
<p>Yuuri softened, shifting over so he could lean his head against Viktor’s shoulder and wrap an arm around his waist.  “I can only imagine how hard this must be for you, Viktor.  I would never do anything to hurt you – at least not intentionally.  I hope you know that.”  Yuuri watched Viktor nod, the tear tracks on his face catching the light from the ever-setting sun.  “We’re going to Saint Petersburg, Viktor.  We’re going to…”</p>
<p>“I get to see my family again,” Viktor murmured, turning away from the light and curling around Yuuri’s comforting form.  “I’m sorry, Yuuri.  Thank you.  I- words can’t express how much this means to me.”</p>
<p>“I know, Viktor.  I can feel it,” Yuuri assured him, pressing a kiss to the top of Viktor’s silver hair.  “I won’t give up until you find – <em>do </em>– whatever it is you need.  And even after that…I just want you close to me.”  <em>For as long as you can stay </em>was left unsaid.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This marks the end of Part 1 of this story - the goal so far has been Yuuri's improvement on the ice and his struggles with Viktor, and now that they'll be going to Saint Petersburg, we'll get to find out more about Viktor!</p>
<p>More importantly, feels check-in time!  How are you all doing?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Part 2, "For Viktor" - Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri arrives in Saint Petersburg, and Viktor gets to fulfill one of his final wishes with the help of a new friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuuri always loved early morning ice time – that was no different in Saint Petersburg.  He was at the rink as soon as it opened, trailing a janitor into the facility and doing his off-ice warmup as quickly as safely possible so he could finally get on the ice.</p>
<p>The rink was incredible to say the least.  It was easy to see why Viktor had loved it there – <em>did</em> love it there, if the foreign feeling of contentment rising inside him was any indication.  Whereas his usual training rink had the boards completely surrounding the ice, this rink had the ice ending right at the walkway with one wall entirely covered in mirrors.  Yuuri couldn’t wait to work on his choreography with those to his advantage.</p>
<p>He warmed up slowly, getting used to the feel of the ice.  The air in the facility was colder than his usual rink, but Yuuri didn’t mind; he’d be sweating soon enough.  He worked his way through his jumps, performing all of his individual jumps as solo triples before attempting combinations.  He started those easily, too, with Viktor’s calm presence in the back of his mind seeming to buzz happily as he went waltz jump-triple toe over and over, followed by waltz jump-single loop-triple loop.</p>
<p><em>Good.  Now try the axel with the Rippon,</em> Viktor instructed.</p>
<p>Yuuri nodded almost imperceptibly in response.  Viktor didn’t need to <em>see</em> the nod, after all; he could feel it just as well as Yuuri could.</p>
<p>He could also feel that Yuuri wasn’t tightening his core n<em>early</em> enough on the jump, causing him to pop it into a double rather than risk a fall this early in the day.</p>
<p><em>No, Yuuri; like this,</em> Viktor said, tensing Yuuri’s muscles for him.  The barrier between who was controlling Yuuri’s body had been growing thinner by the day, and taking control for subtle movements like a muscle contraction while remaining the ‘spectator’ was becoming normal.</p>
<p>“Got it,” Yuuri murmured, launching into the jump once again.  He vaulted himself into the air, both arms raised over his head as he grabbed his left wrist with the other hand, twisting, turning, then-</p>
<p><em>Yes.  Like that.  We can make sure the landing is extra stable later,</em> Viktor told him.  Yuuri had tilted slightly in the air on the final rotation, not holding his core tightly enough as he finished the rotation.  He’d wobbled a little when his blade touched the ice, but it was an easy enough landing for him to save.  <em>We’ll have you in your best condition yet before Nationals next week.</em></p>
<p>“Acceptable, Katsuki.  We can correct the landing later,” a voice echoed through the rink.</p>
<p><em>“Yakov,”</em> Viktor said, the name filling Yuuri’s mind and his mouth as the older skater accidentally took control.</p>
<p>The man grunted at the edge of the ice.  “What happened to Coach Feltsman?”</p>
<p>Yuuri squeaked in response.  He really wanted to scold Viktor, but Yakov would have heard – or at the very least seen – him talking to himself.  “Forgive me, Coach.  I-”</p>
<p>“Most of my skaters call me Yakov,” he said, interrupting Yuuri before he could continue his apologies.</p>
<p>Yuuri paused, looking at the man across the rink.  There was something about his expression…something that looked haunted.  “Thank you, sir,” he said rather than mentioning it further.</p>
<p>“The class officially starts in two hours.  I expect the other skaters to start arriving soon.  In the meantime, work on that knee bend – it’ll help you absorb the shock on the landing, and it should give you more control landing that axel,” Yakov said.</p>
<p>Yuuri brightened immediately at the feedback.  “Yes, Coach!”</p>
<p>Yakov’s eyes narrowed at the name.  “And don’t tire yourself out too early.  You have a full day ahead of you – I won’t have you slacking during the afternoon sessions!”</p>
<p>“Yes, Coach,” Yuuri said again.</p>
<p>As soon as Yakov turned his back, Yuuri closed his eyes tightly.  <em>That was close</em>, he thought, feeling Viktor’s bubbling excitement and, strangely, worry.  Now was not the time to mention it, though.  He had work to do.</p>
<p>He worked diligently for nearly an hour, spending the time practicing his double and triple axel with the Rippon – anything to get the feel for the air position better and help smooth out his landings.</p>
<p>Eventually, his privacy was over.  A familiar boy, still yet to have his growth spurt, had arrived for the class.  Yuuri noticed him just as he landed a triple axel with both arms up with the slightest shift of his weight on the landing, a vast improvement from earlier in the day.</p>
<p>“Oi, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” the small blond boy yelled, his angry voice echoing through the nearly empty rink.</p>
<p><em>Yuri!</em> Viktor yelled in his mind.</p>
<p>“What?” Yuuri breathed, trying to move his lips as little as possible as he skated towards the newcomer.</p>
<p><em>Not you – him.  It’s Yura, remember?  Although…perhaps I should call him Yurio.  He is quite small, and I think the name fits him better,</em> Viktor said thoughtfully.  <em>It’ll help differentiate the two of you more.</em></p>
<p><em>You’re not going to be calling him </em>anything<em>, </em>Yuuri thought irritably, even though Viktor couldn’t hear his thoughts.  <em>You need to control yourself before you get us both in trouble.</em>  He hoped some of his emotions made an impression on Viktor, even if his words wouldn’t reach him.</p>
<p>“Hello again,” Yuuri said.  “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced – I’m Yuuri Katsuki.  We’ve met once before,” he introduced himself as he neared the younger boy.</p>
<p>Yuri scoffed.  “I know who you are!  But <em>you</em> can’t be Yuuri; <em>I’m</em> Yuri, and there’s only room for one Yuri at this rink.”</p>
<p>Yuuri smiled placatingly.  “I’m only here the masterclass this week.  I’ll be leaving for Japan at the end, and you can go back to being the only Yuri at the rink.”</p>
<p>“<em>Good,</em>” Yuri hissed.  “Ugh.  What were those, anyway?  Those axels?  And your free program this year!  It’s like you’re trying to copy-”  Yuri stopped abruptly, looking down at his skates with a sour expression.</p>
<p>Yuuri knew what he was going to say, anyway, and <em>he</em> wasn’t about to bring it up.  Instead, he found himself saying, “How’s Makkachin?”  The words were out of Yuuri’s mouth before he even realized he has spoken them – but they weren’t his.</p>
<p>Yuri blanched, his expression furious when he looked up at the older Yuuri.  “What the <em>fuck, </em>Katsuki?  Your first conversation with a near-stranger, and you ask about their dead friend’s <em>dog</em>?”</p>
<p>
  <em>He thought of me as his friend?</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri’s eyes were wide as he watched the younger boy in horror.  “I- I didn’t- I’m sorry!”</p>
<p>Yuri scoffed.  “You’d <em>better</em> be.”  Having had the last word, Yuri left in search of his coach, leaving the other Yuuri to breath a heavy sigh of relief.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’m sorry, Yuuri.  I just…</em>
</p>
<p>“I know,” Yuuri whispered.  “It’s okay.  We just need to be more careful.”</p>
<p>Yuuri spent the rest of the day avoiding the younger boy and hoping he wouldn’t slip up again.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>The following day, though, Yuuri found himself at the rink for morning practice with no recollection as to how he got there – or why the younger Yuri was standing in front of him looking utterly bewildered.</p>
<p>“I thought you didn’t speak Russian?” Yuri grumbled.</p>
<p>“I…I <em>don’t</em>,” Yuuri answered, bewildered.  He’d been asleep, and he hadn’t even heard his alarm go off yet-</p>
<p>Yuuri felt an odd wave of guilt wash through him.</p>
<p>Yuri scoffed.  “We just had a <em>whole conversation in Russian</em>, you idiot.  If that’s not speaking Russian…”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s blood ran cold.  “What…what did we talk about?”</p>
<p>Yuri stared at him.  “Are you <em>stupid</em>, Katsuki?  I mean, I knew you were, but like…to not remember what we <em>just</em> talked about?  You gave me tips on my quad salchow.  You said it was <em>easy</em> for you – and you called me fucking <em>Yurio</em>.”</p>
<p>“I don’t…Yuri, I don’t <em>have</em> a quad salchow.”</p>
<p>“You just said you <em>did</em>!”</p>
<p>“I…<em>no!</em>  I don’t have a quad salchow.  I have the quad toe and the flip and…and the lutz now, but <em>definitely</em> not a clean salchow.”</p>
<p>Yuri threw his hands in the air in frustration.  “Well, then where did all of <em>that</em> come from?”</p>
<p>Yuuri looked at the angry, confused boy in front of him.  He was so young – at just 15, he was one of the youngest competing in the senior division.  He was <em>so young</em> to be dealing with this, too young to have to deal with his teammate’s murder-</p>
<p>Like Viktor.</p>
<p>Like Viktor, who had been too young to die and with whom Yuri had trained with for years.  Despite his caustic personality, Yuri surely must have looked up to Viktor at one point, and…</p>
<p>Yuuri wouldn’t – <em>couldn’t</em> – keep this from him.  “The advice wasn’t from me.”</p>
<p>Yuri scoffed again.  “What, so you’ve got some multiple personality thing going on?  Two skaters in one body?”</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed hard.  “Yes.  Yes, that’s exactly what’s going on.”</p>
<p>The boy gave a bark of laughter in disbelief.  “Oh, yeah, sure.  <em>Suuure</em>.  You’ve got two personalities, dumb Yuuri Katsuki and then some Russian skating genius.  So, who else is inhabiting your body, then?  Huh?”</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Yuuri let the name roll off his tongue.  “Viktor Nikiforov.”  As soon as the words were spoken, a wave of uncertainty and fear flooded Yuuri’s body.</p>
<p>Yuri’s eyes widened, and he looked unsteady on his feet.  “<em>What</em>?!”</p>
<p>Yuuri really didn’t want to repeat Viktor’s name again in case anyone walked in, so instead, he said, “You heard me.”</p>
<p>“<em>You’re sharing a body with Viktor Nikiforov?”</em> Yuri hissed.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Yuuri said, “Yes.”</p>
<p>Yuri took it eerily well.  He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Yuuri’s face before nodding.  “You’re <em>insane</em>, but okay.  Huh…wait, if he can <em>talk</em> as you, can he <em>skate</em> as you, too?!  Are you cheating?!”</p>
<p>
  <em>Tell him no.  Tell him it’s just…less body, more voice.</em>
</p>
<p>“N-no, of course not!” Yuuri rushed to answer.  “He can speak sometimes, but that’s about it.”</p>
<p>Yuri squinted again, looking very much like he didn’t believe Yuuri’s words one bit.  “Uh-huh.  <em>Right</em>.  So if you’re somehow carrying around the spirit of my former training mate who can <em>only talk</em> and <em>definitely not skate as you</em>, then why are you here?” he pressed.</p>
<p>“He…Viktor wanted to come here.”  It was both terrifying and a relief to be able to admit aloud to someone else that <em>Viktor</em> was the one driving this adventure.</p>
<p>“Of course he did,” Yuri grumbled.  “What does he <em>want</em>, though?  It’s not like he missed us.”</p>
<p>Yuuri wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say to that.  Viktor <em>had</em> missed them all, but Yuri didn’t want to hear that.  He would just argue, and they would get nowhere.  “He wanted to see Coach Feltsman,” Yuuri finally said.</p>
<p>Yuri pursed his lips, looking irritated at Yuuri’s answer.  “He wanted to see his <em>dog</em>, more likely.  That’s what you- he- oh, <em>whichever one of you idiots</em> was talking about yesterday.”  Yuuri didn’t think agreeing that Makkachin was one of the main motivations for his trip would have helped.  “<em>Ugh</em>.  I can’t believe he had to be spectacular at <em>dying</em>, too,” Yuri muttered to himself.</p>
<p>Before Yuuri could find a decent response, the skaters were called to the ice to begin that day’s training.  Yuri cast a glare in Yuuri’s direction – whether he was annoyed with Viktor or just reminding them that <em>he knew now</em>, Yuuri wasn’t sure, but he certainly remembered that look all throughout the day.</p>
<p>When practice finally ended, Yuuri having been daydreaming for the last hour of laying his sore body on his soft hotel bed, Yuri approached him in the locker room.  “I’m tired, and Yakov already left.  I need you to walk me home,” the younger boy demanded with no warning.</p>
<p>The cold walk home was silent, even as they approached the unassuming house.  Oddly enough, Yuri didn’t seem in any rush to send Yuuri back to his hotel room.  Instead, he held the door open for Yuuri to enter before him, then led him down a hallway and into the living room.  Before Yuuri realized it, a dog was bounding over to him, showing no sign of slowing down as she slid across the hardwood floors, which looked <em>very</em> unpleasant should someone fall on them-</p>
<p>Yuuri could confirm that it <em>was</em> very unpleasant to have your back hit the wooden floor, but he could hardly care as Makkachin planted her paws on his chest and licked the expanse of his face.  “Makkachin!” Yuuri said through peals of laughter.</p>
<p><em>Makkachin,</em> Viktor echoed, sounding relieved and overjoyed.  Yuuri felt certain that if Viktor were in control at that moment, he would be crying – even with Yuuri in control, it was still a very near thing.</p>
<p>“Huh.  The dog likes you,” Yakov grumbled, and it was then that Yuuri realized 1) Yuri and he were not alone, which he should have figured out from Yuri’s earlier request, and 2) Yuri had done this very much on purpose.</p>
<p>Finally managing to subdue the overly excited poodle, Yuuri’s cheeks reddened.  “I’m a dog person,” he said quickly.  “I’ve got my own poodle at home.”</p>
<p>“Yuri?  What’s Katsuki doing here?  Neither of you injured yourselves, did you?” Yakov asked.</p>
<p>Yuri flung himself onto the couch, slouching as he pulled out his phone.  “I didn’t want to walk home alone.  Katsuki offered.”  Yuuri raised an eyebrow but said nothing to the contrary.  “That dog sure seems happy to have some company,” Yuri remarked as a fluffy cat joined him on the couch.</p>
<p>Yakov raised an eyebrow at Yuri’s words.  “Yes, she certainly does seem to like the extra attention.  Katsuki, you’re welcome to visit for a little while.  I certainly don’t have enough time to entertain a dog.  I only have her because-”</p>
<p>They all knew what the ‘because’ was, but nobody, not even Viktor, or perhaps <em>especially</em> Viktor, had the heart to say it out loud.  Yakov stepped into the kitchen, leaving Yuuri with a lap full of poodle and Yuri on the couch.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?  Please, please, can I just…I promise to behave, but-</em>
</p>
<p>Before Viktor could even finish asking, he was in control of Yuuri’s body, his arms winding tightly around his darling poodle for the first time in years.  The tears that had been threatening to spill now poured down his cheeks, quickly soaking the curls on Makkachin’s head.</p>
<p>“My darling girl, Makka-baby, I missed you so much,” he murmured into her fur.</p>
<p>Yuri, to his credit, never once scoffed or even looked up from his phone.  He pretended like he couldn’t hear his dead training mate talking through another man’s body, instead idly stroking his cat as he scrolled through Instagram.</p>
<p>“Have you been a good girl?  Of course you’ve been a good girl.  I’m so sorry, Makka.  I shouldn’t have left you.  I didn’t <em>want</em> to, but…”</p>
<p>And if there was a sniffling sound from the direction of the couch, well, it was only fair that Yuuri and Viktor ignored that, too.</p>
<p>Yuuri waited quietly, watching as Viktor spent time with his dog until he finally slipped back into his soul room, letting Yuuri take over again.  Yuuri’s whole body felt warm, comfortable, like a weight had been lifted off him – <em>happiness and relief</em>, he realized, coming from both of them.</p>
<p>“Yuri?” Yuuri said.  The younger boy barely glanced up from his phone, his cat strewn across his lap.  “Thank you.  You can’t even imagine what you’ve done, but…”</p>
<p>Yuri rolled his eyes.  “Don’t make it into something sappy, <em>old man</em>.  I hate walking home by myself.”</p>
<p><em>Tell him I miss him,</em> Viktor said.  <em>Please.  Tell Yura I miss him and his insults and- and-</em></p>
<p>“I feel like I should be offended by that, but I’m not.  I dare say I miss being insulted by others,” Yuuri said with a half smirk.  Yakov appeared again, looking confused, but he eventually rolled his eyes to the ceiling with a grumbled, “Pah, c<em>hildren.</em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the delay posting this...I had my computer open to edit on Wednesday, and then I ended up spending the rest of the day glued to the television.  (I thought 2021 was supposed to be a better year than 2020???)</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  Viktor got to see his Makkachin again! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri does his best to pass on Viktor's message to Yakov and fulfill Viktor's last wish.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would like to apologize in advance because this chapter is a big feels trip. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Katsuki, to my office,” Yakov barked at the end of the next training day.  After spending so much time at Yakov’s rink, Yuuri had started to get used to the man’s harsh demeanor, but it didn’t stop him from freezing up like a child who had just gotten in trouble.</p>
<p>“Coach Feltsman,” Yuuri greeted politely as he sat down across from the man’s desk.  He was doing everything he could to keep his hands from shaking and his voice from trembling.</p>
<p>“I was surprised to get your application,” Yakov said.  “When we received it, the masterclasses were all full, but we were fortunate enough to get a cancellation.  You’ve been a great asset to the class, and you’ve even managed to get Plisetsky to tolerate you.”  Yuuri hummed in agreement, waiting anxiously to see where Yakov was going with this conversation.  “Even before you came here, you’d made great improvements this season,” the man told him, “in both of your programs, but especially with…with…”</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed hard as he watched the usually composed man suddenly struggle to find words.  “Viktor’s program deserved to see the ice at least once more.”</p>
<p>Yakov nodded wordlessly.  “Viktor worked too hard to…to…”  The man looked down at his desk, blinking quickly.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yakov…Yakov, I’m so sorry.</em>
</p>
<p>“It wasn’t fair,” Yuuri agreed.  “I think…if I were him,” Yuuri said carefully, “and something happened to me at a competition, I’d have wanted to tell my coach ‘thank you’ one last time and make sure he knew it wasn’t his fault.  I’m sure Viktor would have wanted the same thing.  Any good student would.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes, exactly that.  Thank you, Yuuri.</em>
</p>
<p>Yakov was silent for a long minute, his eyes squeezing shut for a few seconds longer than a blink warranted as he composed himself.  Finally, he took a deep breath, the stern coach façade back in place.  “Katsuki,” he said, eyes clear now as he cast an appraising glance over Yuuri’s face.  “What <em>really</em> brings you to my rink?  You’re skating Viktor’s program, and you’re not lacking in expertise with Celestino Cialdini as your coach.”</p>
<p>“Well, I…”  And suddenly, Yuuri realized that he didn’t know how to explain why he was there without telling Yakov <em>everything</em>.  He couldn’t very well say ‘The ghost of your former student possesses me sometimes, and he wanted to know what happened to his dog,’ now could he?  (Well, he <em>could</em>, but Yuuri didn’t want to find out what a Russian psych ward looked like.)</p>
<p><em>Tell him you’ve been inspired by me,</em> Viktor suggested.  <em>It’s the truth, and with what you told him for me…</em></p>
<p>“Viktor was a huge inspiration for me,” Yuuri latched onto the thought eagerly.</p>
<p>Yakov scoffed.  “As you’ve already told me – you and everyone else.  Most don’t normally trek to <em>Russia</em> and sit through a grueling week of having every aspect of their skating torn apart, though.”</p>
<p>Yuuri stared at Yakov’s hands clasped tightly on the desk, refusing to meet the man’s eyes in case he would somehow <em>know</em>.  “I can’t really explain.  I just…something told me that I needed to come here.”</p>
<p>Yakov didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press Yuuri for more, either.  “Our instincts tell us to do things – it’s just a matter of whether you have good or bad instincts.  Since they led you <em>here</em> to my rink, I hope they’re good ones.”  Yakov’s fierce gaze felt like it was boring into Yuuri’s soul – or maybe into Viktor’s.  “You have a great deal of potential, Katsuki – I know this because I have coached no shortage of champions, and you have the same spark I saw in them.”  With a sigh, he added, “The same spark I saw in Viktor himself, even if yours is more of a glowing ember than the blazing firework his was.  Consider this a standing offer for coaching here.  Russia doesn’t always take kindly to outsiders training in our rinks, but for you, I will make an exception.”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s jaw dropped, leaving him gaping at the grizzled coach.  “I- thank you, sir.  That means a lot, and…I appreciate your confidence in me.  I’ll see what Celestino thinks of adding additional training here into my regimen.”</p>
<p><em>I don’t know what Celestino will say, but </em>I’m <em>your coach, too, and I think it’s a great idea,</em> Viktor stated.</p>
<p>“See that you do.  Now, go rest; you have another long day ahead of you tomorrow, and I want you well-rested before your nationals next week.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>The following day was just as grueling as Yakov had promised, maybe even more exhausting than the ones before it if that were somehow possible.  Yuuri felt as if he was literally dragging his body to the locker room with only the promise of rest keeping his muscles moving.  Viktor seemed to have other ideas, though.</p>
<p><em>Let’s go somewhere,</em> he said.</p>
<p>Surrounded by the other skaters in the locker room, Yuuri couldn’t respond with words, but he tried to send Viktor as much of an inquisitive feeling as he could.</p>
<p>
  <em>Let me take over for a little bit.  Your masterclass is over now, and I want to…surprise you.  Please?</em>
</p>
<p>There he was again: uncertain, hesitant Viktor.  Yuuri was exhausted, but Viktor clearly needed something.  He nodded once in agreement, zipping his duffel closed and giving a wave to the others as he stood up.</p>
<p>Halfway through a step, Viktor took control so seamlessly that Yuuri hardly noticed himself being relegated to his beach.  They’d gotten much better at swapping places, especially on the ice – it wasn’t a surprise that they could do it so easily on solid ground, but Yuuri still marveled each time.  Despite his curiosity, he refrained from asking Viktor any questions as he walked them a few blocks away from the rink in the opposite direction of Yuuri’s hotel.</p>
<p>Yuuri spotted Viktor’s destination a block away: an open-air ice rink edged in twinkling Christmas lights, new skaters and experienced skaters alike gliding in circles in the cold winter evening.</p>
<p>“Is this okay?” Viktor murmured.</p>
<p><em>This is perfect,</em> Yuuri responded, wishing he could squeeze Viktor’s hand and reassure him physically.</p>
<p>Viktor approached the rink, paying their entry fee and sitting on a bench to put on Yuuri’s skates up once more.</p>
<p>Yuuri watched wistfully as a couple skated by, the young man and woman holding tightly to each other both looking like baby deer on their rented skates.  If only Viktor had a body, if only they could skate together like that where others could see…</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t help the lone thought of <em>Viktor… </em>that slipped from his consciousness.  He felt an answering pang of wistfulness and guilt, and Yuuri wished so desperately that he could take all that sadness away.</p>
<p>“You’ve done so much for me, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured as he finished lacing up Yuuri’s boots.  “I wanted to see Yakov and Makka and my rink family again, and you made that happen for me.  I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”</p>
<p>Viktor stepped onto the ice, moving to follow the flow of people.  He closed his eyes for a moment, soaking in the feeling of just <em>skating </em>in a real body for no other reason than the simple joy of it – even if it wasn’t his body.</p>
<p><em>There’s nothing to repay, Viktor.  I love you,</em> Yuuri told him.  He couldn’t reassure Viktor with touch, but he could tell him how cherished he was at every chance he got.</p>
<p>Viktor smiled, his eyes opening just as he pushed Yuuri into control again.  <em>I love you, too</em>, Viktor told him as Yuuri continued moving his blades on the ice.  <em>I wanted to show you this.  I always loved the holidays here, especially the ice rinks.  There’s just something different about skating outdoors.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri moved to the center of the ice, turning into a slow backspin before slipping back to his beach, Viktor easily picking up where he left off and moving into a layback spin.  He stared at the sky above him, finding the brightest star and focusing on it as spun on the ice.</p>
<p><em>It’s the sky, I think</em>, Yuuri said.  <em>Being able to look up and not see a ceiling, to see twinkling stars instead…</em></p>
<p>Yuuri seamlessly picked up the layback spin Viktor had begun, moving into a Biellman and ignoring the longing and impressed looks that the intermediate skaters on the rink were giving him – them.</p>
<p><em>They’re beautiful, aren’t they?  And you are, too.  There’s a reason I call you звезда моя – it means my star, Yuuri.  </em>Yuuri pulled out of the spin, rejoining the group of people circling the rink.  There was more room on the ice now that some families had started leaving as the hour grew later.  <em>You’re spectacular, my Yuuri.  You shine so brightly – if I could </em>see<em> you right now, I wouldn’t be able to look away.  You’re so beautiful.</em></p>
<p>With the extra space available, Viktor took over again, landing an easy single axel, then circling again as more people started to look his way.  Eventually, they grew bored of watching him do nothing more exciting than crossovers and went back to their own skating.  Without jumping, nobody cared about the unassuming Japanese man on the ice – not in the way that Viktor would have attracted attention in Russia if it were <em>his</em> body skating.</p>
<p><em>I wish I could really </em>see <em>you, too, Viktor, </em>Yuuri agreed.  <em>I wish I could see you skate as yourself again.  Your body…you had so much power, Viktor.  You commanded so much attention.  </em>Yuuri was in control again, turning around and stretching his body into a Charlotte spiral before moving into a double flip.</p>
<p><em>You think you don’t command that attention, my love? </em>Viktor asked with a chuckle.<em>  They can’t take their eyes off you.</em></p>
<p>That wasn’t entirely true; people were certainly looking, but it was at more than just <em>Yuuri</em>.  Their switching back and forth, trading control in the middle of elements, had people noticing <em>something</em>.  Nobody could pinpoint exactly what it was, but if they could, they’d see that Yuuri’s skating held a different tone depending on who was in control of his body.</p>
<p><em>They’re surely looking at you,</em> Yuuri disagreed.  <em>I wish we could </em>really <em>skate together, Viktor.</em></p>
<p>Viktor was back once again, moving out around the dwindling crowd and into the open middle of the rink.  He picked up speed, the skaters at the edge of the rink slowing down as they watched his determined face.</p>
<p>Yuuri watched as Viktor picked into the well-worn ice, much softer than the ice at either of their training rinks.Yuuri longed to hold Viktor, to skate with him, and he couldn’t stop the thought from escaping his mind.  <em>I wish we-</em></p>
<p>-quad flip, the twinkling lights of the rink and sparkling stars above appearing to circle around them as they spun through the air-</p>
<p>-<em>could be together,</em> Viktor finished.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s blade cut through the ice.  His body was so used to both of their control now that the muscle memory allowed for Yuuri to land the jump even having taken control halfway through the second rotation.  There was cheering and clapping from the other skaters on the ice, but Yuuri felt like he was hearing them through waterlogged ears.</p>
<p>“<em>I love you</em>,” Yuuri and Viktor told each other simultaneously, Yuuri’s words masked by the sound of the crowd.</p>
<p>They didn’t skate for much longer, just a few more laps in a heavy silence before Viktor took over once more and led them off the ice.  The silence lingered long after they’d returned to the hotel and showered, Yuuri tucked snuggly into the warm bed after the long day of skating.</p>
<p>And it might have just been a quiet, introspective evening if something hadn’t gone so glaringly <em>wrong.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri?</em>
</p>
<p>“Viktor?” Yuuri murmured into the dark hotel room, the air conditioning covering the sound of his voice so that it was nearly inaudible.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri, there’s a…light.</em>
</p>
<p>“Huh?”  Yuuri blinked at the ceiling above him, then rolled onto his side.  “No, Viktor’s; it’s dark out.  Are you seeing something from my phone, maybe?”</p>
<p><em>Not there.  </em>Here<em>.  In my…soul room.  There’s a light.</em></p>
<p>Yuuri froze.  “No,” he whispered.  His mind was racing with thoughts of all those clichés of people seeing a light right before they die, beckoning them to go to it.  “Viktor?”</p>
<p>It seemed that Viktor had the same idea.  <em>I think…Yuuri, you know what they say about going into the light…</em></p>
<p>“No,” Yuuri said again, tears rushing to his eyes.  “You’re already dead, Viktor.  Can’t you…I mean…<em>what</em>…?”</p>
<p>
  <em>I…we finished everything I said I wanted to do, didn’t we?  You brought me to Saint Petersburg, and I got to see Yakov and Makka and…and…</em>
</p>
<p>“Viktor?” Yuuri asked desperately.</p>
<p>
  <em>It seems…peaceful.  Yuuri, should I…?</em>
</p>
<p>“No!”  Yuuri was nearly shouting now, the rumble of the air conditioning no match for his voice.  “Viktor, I don’t…<em>please</em> don’t leave me!”  Even as he said the words, though, he knew they was selfish; if Viktor stayed, he would be trapped in the star pendant having to share a body.  What kind of life was that?</p>
<p>It wasn’t one; Viktor was dead, after all.  If the light was calling him to pass on, if that meant his work here was done now that he saw his beloved Makkachin and his rink family once more…</p>
<p>“…I’m sorry, Viktor,” Yuuri murmured through his tears.  “You’re right.  You should go to…whatever’s next.  I don’t want to keep you here.”  He should have known this would happen – good things couldn’t last forever, especially not things as good as <em>Viktor.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Yuuri…</em>
</p>
<p>Before Yuuri could respond out loud, he had already forced himself into his own soul room, ripping open the door and bursting into Viktor’s.  Viktor was still there, waiting next to a golden light that consumed half the rink and illuminated Viktor’s face with an angelic glow.</p>
<p>“Viktor,” Yuuri said through his ragged breathing.  His tears had followed him into his mind, too.</p>
<p>Viktor turned quickly, his worn smile brightening when he saw the other man.  “Yuuri.  I love you, you know that?”</p>
<p>Swallowing hard, Yuuri nodded.  “I know.  I love you, too, and…if it weren’t selfish of me to keep you here, I would, but you deserve whatever’s next.  You deserve peace.”</p>
<p>Viktor took a step away from the light, the movement seeming incredibly difficult for him, and drew Yuuri tightly into his arms.  “I…I don’t really want to leave you, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured, “but…what if this is my only chance?  What if the light never comes back, and…and what if 80 years from now you’re gone, and I’m trapped, and I can’t get to wherever you are, and- and-”</p>
<p>Yuuri squeezed his eyes closed, shaking his head.  “I don’t want that for you, Viktor.  It’s okay.  I understand, and…”</p>
<p>“I love you, звезда моя.  That will never change no matter where I am,” Viktor swore.</p>
<p>Yuuri tried to cover his sniffles by pressing his face into Viktor’s neck, holding his body as close to his own as he could one last time.  “Thank you for all you did for me – for inspiring me and coaching me and…and…<em>loving</em> me.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s deep chuckle rumbled through his chest.  “You never need to thank me for those things, my star.  That was all you.  You still have greatness to come – you’re not done yet.  <em>Make me proud</em>,” he whispered fiercely in Yuuri’s ear.</p>
<p>“I will,” Yuuri promised, pushing Viktor away before he lost any of his resolve.  “I love you,” he said again, pressing his lips firmly against Viktor’s, feeling their warmth against his own one more time – even if it wasn’t <em>real</em>.  “<em>I love you</em>.  It’s okay,” Yuuri told him again when he drew back.  “I’ll stay here until…until I can’t anymore.  You won’t be alone.”</p>
<p>Viktor smiled weakly.  “I don’t know what will happen once I’m gone, but…thank you, Yuuri.  Be brave.”  Viktor stepped away, moving back to the light.  He reached out a hand, fondling the furthest reaches of its brightness, watching as the streams of light cascaded through his fingers.</p>
<p>Viktor paused, seemingly afraid to move forward.  “It’s okay, Viktor,” Yuuri assured him despite all the thoughts in his head screaming that Viktor leaving would <em>never </em>be okay.  “It’s okay.”  <em>Tell him to stay, tell him- </em>but no.  Yuuri couldn’t be selfish with Viktor, not about something like this.“Wherever you go, I’ll always find you.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be waiting,” Viktor told him tearfully, glancing back and forth between Yuuri and the golden light as it called to him.  “I promise.”</p>
<p>“I know.  I love you.”</p>
<p>Looking back at Yuuri once more, Viktor whispered a fierce, “<em>I love you, </em>звезда моя,” one last time, his words filling the rink and reverberating in Yuuri’s mind.</p>
<p>And then he stepped into the brightness, the light growing to consume the entire room.</p>
<p>In the far depths of Yuuri’s mind, he could feel himself being ejected from Viktor’s room and deposited into his own, passing out on the warm sand of his beach.  That didn’t matter, though.  Yuuri couldn’t think of that.</p>
<p>All he could think was: Viktor Nikiforov is gone.  <em>Viktor </em>is gone – for good this time.</p>
<p>Viktor was gone, and Yuuri felt lost.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know, I know, I'm sorry! &lt;3  But there's still a lot of chapters left.  And see that happy ending tag?  We'll get there, I promise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri has to deal with the aftermath of Viktor walking into the light in whatever form it takes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m feeling bummed out today because I discovered that someone took a number of key ideas from this story and used them in their own story with no mention of this one (or the source of the general idea, which was Yu-Gi-Oh) whatsoever. :(  I’m feeling a little hurt and pretty disappointed in the state of fandom today, and it really makes me rethink whether posting my stories online is worth the effort (obviously I’ll finish posting this one since the content is already out there).</p>
<p>If anyone would like to use any of the more original elements from my stories, I’m very flattered!  But I would really appreciate it if you would mention something about it in a tag/author’s note, use AO3’s “Inspired By” function to give credit, leave a comment on my story, or message me on tumblr (that way I can read your work, too!  If my lazy butt is taking the time to write something, clearly I’m desperate for more content like it).</p>
<p>Anywho, you didn’t come here for my hurt feelings – I couldn’t keep you guys waiting too long for this chapter, so I made sure to carve out some time to edit it today.  Here’s chapter 19…THE BIG ONE!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuuri was jolted awake at the shrill sound of his alarm.  He hadn’t slept well, the hollow feeling in his head from Viktor’s absence obvious even in sleep.</p>
<p>He laid on his back, eyes closed and unmoving, for much longer than he normally would have tolerated with the obnoxious beeping sound filling the room.  Moving, opening his eyes, <em>really</em> waking up – all of those things would mean that this was real – that last night had actually happened, and Viktor was really, truly…</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t even bring himself to think the word.</p>
<p>He allowed himself a few more moments in bed, using those precious seconds to pretend that this was all just a nightmare, and he’d wake up any minute and feel Viktor’s warm presence in his mind-</p>
<p>
  <em>Beep beep beep.  Beep beep beep.  Beep beep beep.</em>
</p>
<p>Yuuri groaned, finally reaching out to press the snooze button for just <em>five more damn minutes why does the universe hate me so much after everything it’s taken from me</em>-</p>
<p>But his hand didn’t feel the rubber case of his phone; instead, it touched warm skin.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s eyes flashed open as he jerked himself to the left, making a desperate attempt to roll away from whoever was in his hotel room.  He only succeeded in smacking his head against the wall.  Yuuri yelped from the throbbing pain in his skull, one hand going to rub it while the other lifted in the air to defend himself.</p>
<p>Then he <em>looked</em>.</p>
<p>The other half of the bed was filled by a man curled up on his side, sound asleep with the blanket pulled all the way up to his ears.  The only thing visible was his hair – his <em>long silver hair</em>…</p>
<p>“…<em>Viktor?!</em>” Yuuri exclaimed, holding his hands closer to his own body as if touching Viktor again would hurt both of them.  The man groaned, pulling the blanket over his head.  “Viktor, is that…you?” he asked slowly.</p>
<p>The man whined but pulled his head out from under the blanket.  “<em>Yuuri</em>, let me sleep.  I don’t come barging into <em>your</em> soul room at all hours, do I?”</p>
<p>“Viktor, you’re not <em>in </em>your soul room.”</p>
<p>“’Course I’m in my soul room,” Viktor mumbled, eyes still closed against the early morning light.  “Now, let me <em>sleep</em>, Yuuri, unless this is an emergency.”</p>
<p>Yuuri gaped for a moment before he regained his composure.  “Viktor, I think this qualifies as an emergency.  Open your eyes, dammit!”  Finally, he smacked Viktor in the side to get his attention, and–</p>
<p><em>Oh</em> – Viktor was <em>real</em>.  There was an actual body next to him, warm and solid and <em>alive</em>.</p>
<p>“<em>Yuuri</em>,” Viktor groaned, but he blearily opened his eyes.  At first, he blinked a few times in confusion, then he shot upright in bed.  “Yuuri?!  Where are we?”  Even as he asked the question, though, Yuuri could see cautious understanding dawning in his eyes.</p>
<p>“But…<em>how</em>?  Viktor, you…you went into that light.  You were – I thought you were <em>passing on, </em>but you’re…”</p>
<p>“Is this your hotel room, Yuuri?” Viktor asked instead, even though he surely knew the answer.</p>
<p>Yuuri nodded, his breath rattling in his chest.  “Viktor…?”</p>
<p>“Am I…?”  Instead of answering with words, Yuuri wrapped one arm around Viktor’s waist, drawing him closer until they were pressed together from chest to toe.  “Yuuri, am I really…?”</p>
<p>“I think so,” Yuuri whispered shakily, tears prickling in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Does this mean…do you think I’ll stay like this?”</p>
<p>Yuuri drew Viktor in even closer still, nestling his head in the crook of Viktor’s neck.  “I hope so.  <em>God</em>, I hope so.”  He could feel dampness racing down the side of his cheek.  Whose tears they were, he wasn’t quite sure – but did it matter?</p>
<p>“I can’t believe it,” Viktor murmured.  He might have meant to say the words to himself, but Yuuri tried to respond anyway.</p>
<p>“I never thought…”  He let out a deep sigh.  “I didn’t…”</p>
<p>Viktor tilted his head back enough to see Yuuri’s tear-stained face.  “I’m not going to let you go, you know that, right?  Not ever.”  As if to prove his point, Viktor pulled Yuuri more securely into his arms, intertwining their legs and cementing Yuuri against his chest.  Yuuri had no hope of escaping – not that he was going to try.  “We’re going to live happily ever after, and we’ll have seventeen poodles, and I’ll get to be your coach for <em>real</em>, and you’ll get to introduce me to your family as your <em>boyfriend</em>, and-”</p>
<p>“But…won’t people recognize you?” Yuuri interrupted.</p>
<p>Viktor looked deflated for a moment before sitting up quickly, nearly pushing Yuuri off his chest.  He tucked Yuuri safely back into the sheets and swung his legs over the bed, walking purposefully toward the hotel room kitchenette.  Viktor puttered for a moment as he opened drawer after drawer until he made a satisfied noise.  When he turned around, his shaking hands were brandishing a pair of scissors.</p>
<p>Yuuri watched in horror as Viktor lifted the scissors to his hair, his <em>beautiful long hair</em>-  “Viktor!” Yuuri exclaimed just as he heard the <em>snip</em> of the blades closing.  Viktor’s gorgeous silver hair drifted to the ground, pooling like a fallen halo around his feet.  “…<em>Viktor</em>…” he moaned.</p>
<p>“They all knew me for my hair, didn’t they?” Viktor said with a sad smile.  “They knew me for my hair and my skating, and as long as I stay away from Russia and don’t do any quad flips where people can see, I should be pretty safe.”</p>
<p>Yuuri paused.  “…you’re not going to go back to your career?”</p>
<p>Viktor scoffed.  “What career?  Yuuri, I <em>died</em>.  I can’t very well hold a press conference and say…what?  That it was all a publicity stunt?  That I made friends with a necromancer?”  He laughed humorlessly.  More softly, he said, “Yuuri, it’s okay.  I had a life already, and while it ended too soon – much, <em>much</em> too soon – it was still a full life.  I was lucky to experience in my short time what some people never see in a century.  I have a chance to start over now without the pressure and the stress and…and with <em>you</em>.  I’m not going to risk that for some gold medals and prize money.”  Viktor knelt on the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of Yuuri’s forehead.  “Besides, darling,” he said with a bright, almost teasing smile, “that’s what <em>you’re</em> for.  They always said I had the potential to be a five-time world champion.  Well, I think you have the potential to be a <em>six</em>-time world champion – and I’m determined to see it through.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri cautiously knocked on the office door, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet as he waited for some kind of acknowledgement from within the room.  His anxiety was at an all-time high – worse even than when he had decided to move to Detroit.  He had uprooted his entire life then, and this was just a discussion.  Just one little discussion…with Yakov Feltsman about his (un)dead student.  No big deal.</p>
<p>A muffed, “Come in,” was finally granted, and Yuuri cast one last tentative glance in the direction of the windows where Viktor was waiting outside the rink.  Upon entering the office, Yuuri was surprised to find that the imposing coach was not alone; Yuri was slouched in one of the chairs across from his desk.</p>
<p>“What do you want?” Yuri barked, but Yuuri ignored him.  There were more important things to discuss, and it would help that Yuri was already here.</p>
<p>“Coach Feltsman?  Do you have a minute?” Yuuri asked instead.</p>
<p>Yakov raised an eyebrow but nodded.  “Shall I have Yuri leave?”</p>
<p>The younger Yuri looked offended, and Yuuri hurried to say, “No!  No.  He can stay.  That’s…actually better.  He should hear this, too.”  Yuri looked intrigued – or as intrigued as he was willing to appear, which only consisted of him straightening up the slightest amount in his chair and actually looking at Yuuri’s face.  “I don’t know how to say this,” Yuuri began nervously, fidgeting with the star pendant resting against his chest, the now-cracked diamond in its center glinting in the light.  “Viktor – that is, Viktor Nikiforov-”</p>
<p>Yuri rolled his eyes.  “There’s only one Viktor.  We all know who you mean; get on with it!”</p>
<p>But Yuuri didn’t get the chance.  “Did you tell them yet, Yuuri?” Viktor’s excited voice called from the hallway, easing the office door open to peer inside.</p>
<p>There was a loud <em>thud</em> as Yakov fell to the floor and all hell broke loose.  In this instance, though, ‘all hell’ was simply another name for Yuri.  He jumped from his seat, racing to meet Viktor at the door, fists pounding against his chest as soon as he appeared.</p>
<p>“You fucking <em>idiot</em>!  What the <em>fuck</em>!  You’re dead, you’re dead, this isn’t- you can’t be <em>back</em>!”  His rage was quickly dissolving to confusion, tears running down the young boy’s face.</p>
<p>“Yurio…” Viktor crooned.</p>
<p>“That’s not my name!” the boy raged.  “And what happened to your hideous hair?!  You looked even more like an old man now!”</p>
<p>Yuuri sighed.  He would need to have a long chat with Viktor about the meaning of the words “patience” and “wait for me to handle this first.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>It took many, <em>many</em> hours to bring Yakov back to the land of the living, convince him that Viktor was actually back, and explain what had happened – not that Viktor nor Yuuri fully understood it themselves.</p>
<p>It took many more hours to get Yuri to even listen to a word they had to say.</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t blame them; it was basically necromancy, after all.  Their star student and training mate back from the dead?  <em>Anyone</em> back from the dead?  Yuuri wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t been talking to Viktor – <em>skating </em>with Viktor – for over a year.</p>
<p>They had been prepared for a lot of questions, but the one that Yakov eventually voiced had them stumped: <em>what now</em>?</p>
<p>“I assume that Viktor would like his killer arrested, at the very least, and it’s not like he can hide in a bunker forever.  We need to manage this well so the press doesn’t find out Viktor’s alive – unless you want to pin this as a conspiracy?”  Viktor looked startled at the suggestion.  “We could say you had to fake your death for your own protection.  It might not generate the best publicity for you within the figure skating community, but we’ll be able to garner some sympathy if we say that the death threats started to target not only you but me, your training mates, and Makkachin as well.”</p>
<p>Yuuri looked at Viktor, watching as his face went from shock to contemplation before his eyes gleamed with fierce determination.  “That.  I want to do <em>that</em>.”  He said it with such certainty – Yuuri had never heard Viktor’s tone be that firm before.</p>
<p>“Viktor?” Yakov prompted, curious about Viktor’s response.</p>
<p>“We had been planning to just…get him a new identity.  Cut his hair – I mean, he already took the initiative on that – dye it, wear hats, stay away from prominent ice skating rinks,” Yuuri supplied.</p>
<p>Yakov was already shaking his head halfway through Yuuri’s explanation.  “No.  No.  Waste all that talent?  All that <em>life</em>?  No.  If Viktor wants to be <em>Viktor</em> again, I will make sure it happens.”</p>
<p>The room was silent.  All eyes turned to Viktor, who was staring hopefully at his former coach.</p>
<p>“…do you, Viktor?” Yuuri murmured.  “Is that want you want?”</p>
<p>Viktor, eyes wide and close to tears, breathed out a reverent, “<em>Yes.</em>”</p>
<p>Yakov grunted.  “I will make sure it is done.  First, you’ll need a passport to get you back to Detroit.”</p>
<p>“But I have to go with Yuuri to Japan for his Nationals!” Viktor protested.</p>
<p>Yakov eyed him steadily.  “I work fast but not <em>that </em>fast, Vitya.  You will have to stay here while Yuuri meets his other coach in Japan.  I’ll have secured enough documentation to get you back to the United States by the time his competition is over.  I expect you’ll arrive within a day of each other.”</p>
<p>Yuuri had been so overwhelmed with joy at having Viktor <em>alive </em>again that he hadn’t even considered what it would mean for his trip to Japan in just a few days.  As the realization settled in, he could feel his breath quickening, his mind racing as he began to panic.  “But sir- Viktor- he’s my coach, too!  What- I can’t-”</p>
<p>Yuri, having been unusually quiet during the whole discussion, rolled his eyes.  “Just get him a damn phone, idiot.  You can call him and talk to him.  You know he’ll be watching it live, anyway,” the boy grumbled.</p>
<p>Yuuri looked between Yuri and Viktor, then turned to Yakov.  “Would you be able to arrange a phone for him?” Yuuri asked hopefully, trying to hold onto that one steadying idea to get his swirling thoughts to calm down.  “I don’t speak Russian, and he can’t be seen in public right now…”</p>
<p>“I’m not your errand boy!” Yakov grumbled, then softened with a sigh.  “Yes.  I’ll make sure Vitya has a phone available – if nothing else, he can use mine.”</p>
<p>Tentative plans were outlined.  Viktor would communicate with Yuuri by phone while he was in Japan and meet up with him in Detroit.  He’d need a safe way out of the country and into another country or two, and he’d need to prepare his backstory to eventually tell people in Detroit.  It was mentally exhausting for all of them, the younger Yuri even falling asleep an hour into the discussion, but finally, they seemed to have settled on a good enough cover story that they could all agree on.</p>
<p>Yuuri and Viktor left the office, Yuri still snoring behind them.  The facility was supposed to be empty since the masterclass had finished the day before, and Yakov had granted his skaters a rest day.</p>
<p>“Yuuri?  Can we…can we just take a look at the rink?”</p>
<p>“We were just there yesterday,” Yuuri said, tired and confused.</p>
<p>Viktor shook his head, grabbing Yuuri’s hand and dragging him down the hallway toward the ice.  “No; <em>you</em> were there yesterday, even if I…took over a little.  I’m <em>me</em> again, Yuuri, and I just want to…”  He pushed open the door with his free hand, relishing in the blast of cool air that washed over him.  Viktor sighed in contentment.  “I missed this.”</p>
<p>Their peace was disrupted almost immediately by a shriek.</p>
<p>“What the hell?!”</p>
<p>Viktor leveled his gaze on his former training mate.  “Georgi.”</p>
<p>“V-Viktor?!  But you- I thought- you were- you’re <em>dead</em>!” he stammered, eyes bulging in shock – and fear.  Yuuri glared at the man.  He didn’t know why, but Georgi had been rubbing him the wrong way the whole week, so he’d simply avoided being near him.</p>
<p>“I’m back!” Viktor sang cheerfully, but his words sounded fake – hollow.  They were missing the reverence they’d held for his coach and the rink itself and the fondness they held for Yuri and Makkachin.</p>
<p>“Viktor was in witness protection,” Yakov’s voice boomed from behind them, causing Yuuri to flinch in surprise.  “I trust you won’t say a word of this to anyone until it is publicized.”  Behind Yakov’s words was a thinly veiled threat that sent a shiver down Yuuri’s spine.</p>
<p>Georgi gave a meek, “Yes, Coach,” before shooting another glare in Viktor’s direction and heading toward the locker room.</p>
<p>“You need to be more careful,” Yakov scolded his former student.  “If the wrong people found out too soon…”</p>
<p>Yakov didn’t need to explain further.  Viktor had been murdered, after all, and it was a miracle that he was back.  With the murderer still out there…</p>
<p>“My apologies, Yakov,” Viktor said sincerely.</p>
<p>Yuuri moved closer to Viktor, reaching out to take hold of his arm.  That had been way too close for comfort, and the fear of permanently losing Viktor still lingered in the back of his mind.</p>
<p>“Yakov?” Viktor asked tentatively.</p>
<p>The old man sighed, looking briefly skywards as if pleading for the skating gods to have mercy on him.  “<em>Yes</em>, Vitya?”</p>
<p>Viktor, at least, had the graciousness to look meek at the man’s tone.  “Do you…uh, do you have my skates somewhere?  Or did you donate them or sell them or…”</p>
<p>Wordlessly, Yakov returned to his office, Viktor and Yuuri silently following him.  He unlocked the large filing cabinet in the corner of the room, pushing aside CDs and notebooks and swatches of fabric in the bottom drawer before finally revealing a skate bag tucked in the very back.  The well-loved bag was pressed into Viktor’s hands, the coach looking both solemn and relieved at the same time.</p>
<p>“You kept them in your office?” Viktor murmured.</p>
<p>“I couldn’t bear to keep them at home, and a champion’s skates don’t deserve to be left in a storage unit.  And…”  Yakov paused, seemingly afraid to elaborate.  Glancing quickly at Viktor, then at Yuuri slightly behind him, then at Yuri still peacefully asleep, he continued.  His lips were trembling as he said, “How do you think it feels to have your skater die on <em>your watch</em>, then need to arrange transport of a <em>body</em> home?  And your costumes and your skates and…”</p>
<p>Whatever else Yakov was about to include, Viktor didn’t give him the chance.  The skate bag dropped from his hands, his arms winding around his coach and clinging to his back like he would never let go.</p>
<p>Yuuri pressed his eyes shut tightly.  This was private; he really shouldn’t be here for this, and-</p>
<p>“<em>I’m sorry</em>,” Viktor pleaded.</p>
<p>With a sigh, Yakov said, “Viktor Nikiforov, you didn’t plan your own murder, did you?  No?  That’s what I thought.  You don’t need to apologize for <em>being murdered</em>.”</p>
<p>It always took Yuuri aback when he saw moments like this: moments where Viktor was so normal, so incredibly <em>human</em>.  So fragile.  Yuuri was the kind of person who would apologize for someone else’s accident; before this past year, he hadn’t considered that Viktor might be the same.</p>
<p>Yuuri heard a snuffle and the sound of the bag being picked up again, so he considered it safe to open his eyes.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Viktor said quietly, his words heavy with the weight of the years of history and selflessness from his coach that he could never hope to repay.</p>
<p>“You stupid boy…” Yakov grumbled.  “Go with your Yuuri.  Rest.  And…here.”  Yakov pressed something small into Viktor’s hand.  “Come back in the morning when you’ve cleared your head.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A couple of notes!  So…we all saw the temporary character death tag on this fic, right?  That wasn’t just there because Viktor was hanging out as a spirit…<br/>Anywho, time for a feels check in!  Did I fix it?  Fewer tears this time? (or at least happy ones?) &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Viktor returns to the ice, and Yuuri leaves for Japan.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The incredibly talented HikaruSoraSatoNakamura made some absolutely beautiful fan art for this story!  Thank you so much again - I am still flailing over how gorgeous it is!  Please take a second and go see it <a href="https://twitter.com/HikaSora1/status/1349557020001619968?s=19m">over here</a> on their Twitter and leave some love! (If you're reading this story after it's been completed, this is the same art linked in the end note of Chapter 7/6.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yakov had assured them that the rink would be empty the following morning, having entrusted Viktor with the key the day before and instructing them to clear off the ice by 10 sharp <em>or else</em>.  (They weren’t about to risk finding out what <em>or else </em>specifically meant, so they planned to be gone by 9:30 at the very latest).</p>
<p>Arriving before 6, Yuuri and Viktor stretched before donning their skates in the locker room.  Viktor was struck by how familiar everything was – the routine, the rink, his <em>skates</em>…</p>
<p>It almost felt like no time had passed.  It was almost as if he’d never died except for the fact that Viktor now had a man by his side who held his heart and meant <em>everything </em>to him.</p>
<p>Stepping onto the ice in his own body for the first time in years, Viktor felt like his soul breathed a sigh of relief.  He was back – he was at his home rink where he’d spent more than a decade of his life, and he was with his Yuuri.  The ice was as familiar to him as an old friend, and he stood still for a moment just letting the cool air settle against his face.</p>
<p>He was home.</p>
<p>“You okay?” Yuuri murmured quietly from behind him, watching as Viktor stood immobile at the edge of the ice.</p>
<p>“I…Yuuri, I’m better than okay.”  The warm contentment was evident in his voice, a grin playing at his lips.  Turning around much more quickly than he should have, Viktor slipped, Yuuri’s quick hands on his forearms the only thing keeping him upright.</p>
<p>“You sure about that?” Yuuri asked between his giggles.</p>
<p>“I guess skating in someone else’s body for so long threw me off,” Viktor admitted sheepishly.</p>
<p>“I guess you’ll just have to stay close to me for a little while, don’t you think?” Yuuri teased, giving Viktor a gentle nudge backwards so he had space to step onto the ice.</p>
<p><em>Stay close to me</em>.</p>
<p>“Forever, звезда моя.  I always want to be close to you.”</p>
<p>Linking his arm through Viktor’s, Yuuri tugged him around the rink in slow circles, first forwards, then backwards, and finally guiding him into basic steps again.  Viktor’s slips and stumbles were numerous, but each one elicited the biggest grin and a heartfelt laugh from the former World Champion.</p>
<p>“I’m so glad I get to <em>really </em>skate with you, Yuuri.  This is all my wishes come true.”</p>
<p>Yuuri pulled him closer, softly leaning their foreheads together.  “Mine, too.”</p>
<p>When Viktor seemed surer on his blades, he insisted on trying some jumps again: first a waltz, landing the first try easily, then attempting a single toe loop and salchow.  Things progressed fine until he tried a single flip, which he landed on his butt with raucous laughter.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe I fell on a <em>single flip</em>!”  He smacked the ice with his hands, more in amusement than any kind of frustration, and grinned up at Yuuri.</p>
<p>Yuuri returned the smile, offering Viktor a hand to get back on his feet.  “Looks like you’ll have to try the flip again.”</p>
<p>Accepting the hand – and not letting it go, of course – Viktor raised an eyebrow.  “Who’s the coach here?”</p>
<p>“Well, considering that you can’t even land a <em>single</em> flip?” Yuuri said challengingly.  “Looks like it’s me today!  Now, time for that flip again!”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir!” Viktor said teasingly, reluctantly letting go of Yuuri’s hand and successfully completing the airiest single flip Yuuri had ever seen.  “Are you still the coach today?”</p>
<p>“I think I’ve earned the position until you get all your triples back,” Yuuri decided.</p>
<p>Humming in thought, Viktor nodded.  “That seems fair.  Although, I should probably warn you…”  Skating back closer to Yuuri, Viktor linked their arms once more.  “I’m a very nervous skater, you see.  I’ll need my coach to stay close to me the whole time.”</p>
<p>Smiling warmly, Yuuri tightened his hold on Viktor’s arm.  “I suppose I can manage that.”</p>
<p>Unfortunately for Viktor – or fortunately, depending on how he looked at it – he adjusted to his body rather quickly, all things considered.  By the end of the morning, he had successfully regained all his triples, and Yuuri reluctantly returned the duties of coach to Viktor.</p>
<p>Of course, triples weren’t enough for Viktor – they never were, especially considering that he’d been jumping quads in Yuuri’s body just days before.  Ignoring Yuuri’s protests, Viktor set up for a quad flip (the overdramatic man wasn’t patient enough to start with the easier quads), speeding down the rink and turning quickly, picking into the ice, and vaulting himself high into the air.  Yuuri had always been impressed by the height Viktor got on his jumps – now, though, that same height was causing Yuuri anxiety as he watched Viktor rotate, rotate, <em>tilt on his axis</em>-</p>
<p>And somehow, with what was likely a miracle second only to Viktor’s resurrection, he landed what would have caused any other skater to fall, although Viktor’s knee bent deeper than Yuuri had ever witnessed and his free leg nearly touched the ice with how low he landed the jump.</p>
<p>Letting out a sigh of relief, Yuuri hung his head for a moment, only to hear Viktor’s laugh of delight fill the rink.  “I did it!” he exclaimed triumphantly.</p>
<p>Looking up sharply, Yuuri narrowed his gaze.  “Did you think you wouldn’t?”</p>
<p>Viktor looked guilty, only managing a nervous, “Uhh…” before they were interrupted.</p>
<p>“Viktor Nikiforov,” Yakov said sternly, “are you doing quads without supervision?”</p>
<p>“But Yuuri’s here!” Viktor protested, looking like a caught teenager.  “And he’s my coach!”</p>
<p>“Hey, I was only your coach until you got your triples back!  That’s what we agreed on!” Yuuri corrected.</p>
<p>“It was just the one quad!” Viktor added, though he looked mildly annoyed that Yuuri wouldn’t back him up (although he couldn’t blame him – even Viktor was still afraid of Yakov’s wrath).</p>
<p>“That kind of behavior is <em>not</em> tolerated, Viktor, and you know it,” Yakov said.  “I think you’ll need to do some drills to make up for it.”</p>
<p>Viktor groaned, looking briefly at the clock and seeing that it was almost 9:20.  “But you said we had to be gone by 10-”</p>
<p>“And you will be.  Now, I want to see one good attempt of each of your quads before you can leave.”</p>
<p>“But that’s only 40 minutes!” Yuuri argued, looking nervously between Yakov and Viktor.</p>
<p>Raising an eyebrow, Yakov nodded sharply.  “I’m aware.  Best get to it, Viktor.  Start with the quad toe – only an idiot would start with a quad flip,” he added pointedly.</p>
<p>Looking properly shamed, Viktor nodded and set up for the quad toe, stumbling a bit on the landing.</p>
<p>“Again.”</p>
<p>Whatever had thrown Viktor off on the first attempt was fixed on the second, and he landed it just as smoothly as he used to.</p>
<p>“Now the salchow.”</p>
<p>Moving closer to Yakov, Yuuri crossed his arms nervously over his chest, murmuring to the coach, “You think he can do all of them?”</p>
<p>“He was jumping quads in <em>your</em> body, wasn’t he?  You’ve both been here all morning.  It’s just mental now.”</p>
<p>And the grizzled coach was right: the salchow was landed cleanly, too, despite Yuuri not having landed a clean one yet.  “Now the flip again,” Yakov ordered, and he was rewarded with a clean flip less than a minute later.</p>
<p>“The lutz.”</p>
<p>And again, the lutz was landed just as powerfully as Viktor had landed them in Yuuri’s body.</p>
<p>“And the loop,” Yakov said finally.  Viktor obediently circled the rink, gaining speed and preparing for the jump.</p>
<p>“But sir,” Yuuri murmured urgently, “we haven’t- I haven’t even attempted-”</p>
<p>Viktor pushed off his blade, his axis in the air tilting almost as soon as he’d left the ice.  Unsurprisingly, he landed on his butt, his back hitting the ice a second later.</p>
<p>“Viktor?!” Yuuri yelled from the side of the rink, sounding vaguely panicked.  “You okay?”</p>
<p>“Looks like we found what we need to work on,” Yakov muttered to himself before bellowing, “That’s enough for today, Viktor!”</p>
<p>A groan from the ice was the only response he got, followed by a sharp laugh.  “Oh, I didn’t miss <em>these </em>parts of skating,” Viktor said, but even his pained sigh afterwards still sounded…<em>light.  </em>Free.</p>
<p>Shaking his head in disbelief, Yuuri turned to the old coach.  “Why make him do the loop if he had no chance of landing it?”</p>
<p>Yakov shrugged.  “He could have landed it.  He could do it the last day he was in his body, and if no time has passed for him…why not now?  It’s all muscle memory.”</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t argue with that logic.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Despite the masterclass being effectively over, Yuuri still had a training session on the ice that afternoon.  It was one of his last before leaving for Japanese Nationals, but he was limited in how much he could push himself since he was without his backseat coach.  Upon quietly mentioning that to Yakov, the coach said, “You’re only here a few more days.  You can come in early, just like today, and work with Viktor then.  Do your program run-throughs in the afternoons when I can watch you, but do your <em>real</em> work in the mornings.”</p>
<p>That was how Yuuri and Viktor found themselves back at the rink before sunrise the following morning, Viktor ready to coach – and skate.  Unlike how they’d worked before, Viktor was forced to coach using his eyes rather than the feel of Yuuri’s muscles.  While it helped Viktor identify areas where Yuuri needed to improve, it also made it more difficult to tell Yuuri <em>how</em> to make those improvements.  Viktor found himself resorting to modeling the corrections he was trying to describe, hoping that he would notice visually what Viktor wished he could have let him feel instead.</p>
<p>“No, no, Yuuri; your spin is getting too sloppy.  Here, watch me.”  With an ease that was practically unfair, Viktor moved into a layback spin, then transitioning into the Biellman position before-</p>
<p>He hissed in pain but finished the rotations nonetheless.  As soon as he pulled out of the spin, though, he looked at his hand questioningly.  “What the…?”  Across his palm was a straight cut, slowly seeping blood the longer he looked at it.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?!” Yuuri exclaimed, pulling Viktor’s palm toward himself so he could inspect it more closely.</p>
<p>“I…”  Viktor paused to consider his answer.  “Yes; it’s just a cut, Yuuri; we’ve all had them.  I probably should have worn gloves.  I just forgot that I…”</p>
<p>“Forgot what?”</p>
<p>Viktor looked at Yuuri’s face wondrously.  “I forgot what it was like to bleed.  This…I’ve missed <em>all</em> of this, Yuuri, even the very <em>human </em>parts.”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s expression softened as he realized how much Viktor had lost by sharing a body – by <em>dying</em>.  If he had simply died and never returned, that would have been the end; it would have been final.  But dying, only to be brought back and trapped with Yuuri?</p>
<p>Yuuri could only imagine how much Viktor had longed to be <em>truly</em> alive again – and now he was.</p>
<p>“C’mon,” Yuuri said, tugging gently at Viktor’s arm.  “We should probably get that cleaned up.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s okay!  It doesn’t matter,” Viktor said, his eyes still staring at the red line on his hand.</p>
<p>“Viktor, that could get infected or scar.  We should at the very least rinse it off and get you a bandage,” Yuuri insisted.</p>
<p>“But- <em>oh</em>,” Viktor realized.  “I…”</p>
<p>“Viktor?”</p>
<p>“I…forgot that I have to take care of my own body, really.  When I was with you, you did all of that.  It wasn’t really <em>my</em> body, so…”</p>
<p>“There’s consequences for your actions now, Viktor.  You need to remember that,” Yuuri reminded him kindly.</p>
<p>“I’ll try,” Viktor agreed quietly, finally looking away from his palm.  “To the bathroom, then?  I think I remember where Yakov keeps the first aid kit.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>When Yuuri stopped for a moment to think about the last week – <em>really </em>think about it in the context of his life – it was like something out of a dream.  He’d spent the week training with Yakov Feltsman on the rink he’d grown up watching in TV exclusives about Viktor Nikiforov, the man he’d always hoped to one day meet on the ice.</p>
<p>And Viktor Nikiforov?  He was <em>alive</em> and skating on the same ice as Yuuri – and holding his hand and kissing him and loving him.</p>
<p>Which is why the following days were made so much harder.  Viktor didn’t have a passport or visa to travel to Japan, and he was still – officially and legally – a dead man.  There was simply no way for him to travel with Yuuri for Nationals, so he’d need to remain in Russia.  Alone.</p>
<p>Naturally, Yuuri was taking no chances letting Viktor out of his sight for the first time.  The night he was supposed to fly out for the competition, Yuuri and Viktor stopped at Yakov’s house for Yuuri to say his goodbyes.  While Viktor was preoccupied with snuggling Makkachin and pestering Yuri, Yuuri pulled Yakov aside.</p>
<p>“Sir?” Yuuri asked tentatively.</p>
<p>Yakov sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.  “You’re not going to pull another dead man in from the hallway, are you, Katsuki?”</p>
<p>Yuuri paused, realizing only a second too late that Yakov had made a <em>joke</em>.  “Nope, no other lingering spirits inhabiting my body but my own,” he said as lightly as he could.  “It’s just…I’ve been doing my best to keep Viktor safe for the last year, and now…”</p>
<p>The coach’s gaze softened.  “I took care of that boy for more than a decade.  I…certainly made some mistakes, one in particular that I will regret for the rest of my life, but I can assure you that he will be safe here.”  The man paused, his expression growing serious.  “I will protect Vitya with my life – I promise you that.”</p>
<p>Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over to the man on the floor curled around his poodle; to anyone else, he looked like a normal, carefree adult, not someone who’d been dragged to hell and back – maybe literally for all they knew.  “Thank you, sir.  I don’t know how I’ll manage being away from him.”</p>
<p>Not usually one to show any kind of physical affection, Yakov placed a steady hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.  “That boy is my son in all the ways that truly matter.  I will keep him safe, and I will make sure that we stay in contact with you to keep <em>you</em> from stressing.  Alright?”</p>
<p>Yuuri nodded, tearing his eyes away from Viktor.  “Yes.  Thank you, sir…for everything,” he said again.  Glancing at his phone, he saw that it was nearly time to go.  “Let me go say goodbye to Yuri and Makkachin,” he said, quietly making his way to the sofa where Yuri was sprawled out on his phone.</p>
<p>Seeing that Yakov was no longer deep in conversation, Viktor nudged Makkachin over to Yuuri’s side and went to speak to his coach.</p>
<p>“What do you want me doing while Yuuri is in Japan?” Viktor asked uncertainly.  Since his return as a spirit, he’d never been alone; even when he gained his own body, Yuuri had never left his side except for short trips to the bathroom – and even then, Yuuri was stationed right outside the door.  Viktor wasn’t sure he remembered what it was like to be on his own anymore.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome to use the rink in the mornings,” Yakov said, watching Yuuri and the younger Yuri exchanging jabs like siblings would.  “I expect to see you keeping your elements sharp.  As far as a living situation…”  Yakov thought for a moment.  “You can keep staying in the hotel, or you can stay here with me for a few days.  Yurachka has your old room, but the guest room is available.”</p>
<p>Viktor didn’t even need to consider those options.  “I’d love to stay with you, please, if it’s not an imposition.  It’s just…”</p>
<p>“Makkachin will be thrilled,” Yakov agreed gently, his usually gruff exterior having softened at the idea of having Viktor back, even if only for a few days.  “We need to get Yuuri to the airport, though, before he misses his flight.”</p>
<p>(Viktor had to convince himself that, yes, it <em>would</em> be a bad thing for Yuuri to miss Japanese Nationals and his chance for Worlds and stay in Russia with him instead.)</p>
<p>“Yurachka!” Yakov barked, heaving himself up from his chair.  “I’ll be accompanying Yuuri and Viktor to the airport.  Keep an eye on Makkachin while I’m gone.”</p>
<p>Yuri scoffed, glaring at the poodle with no real heat.  “How come <em>I </em>have to stay behind?”</p>
<p>“Come if you must, then.  Someone has to make sure Viktor doesn’t distract Katsuki from getting on his plane,” Yakov said, but when Yuuri looked at him, the seriousness of his expression told him that was not the real reason.  It wasn’t hard to guess what the actual one was: if Yuuri and Viktor went to the airport by themselves, Viktor would need to take a cab back…alone.  That idea didn’t sit well with any of them.</p>
<p>After tearfully parting at the gate, Yuuri went to wait to board his flight, and Viktor, Yakov, and Yuri made a brief stop at the hotel where Viktor had been staying to grab his meagre belongings.</p>
<p>“I’ll have to get the rest of your things back to you,” Yakov muttered.  “We’ll stop at the storage facility after practice tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Yakov,” Viktor said softly, the flickering streetlights as they drove back to the house briefly illuminating the old man’s face.  In the past few days, some of the dark shadows around his eyes had eased.</p>
<p>“The two of you will go to the rink early tomorrow,” Yakov declared more loudly, making sure Yuri couldn’t pretend to ignore him in the back seat.  “You’ll practice together before the rest of the skaters get to the rink.  Someone needs to keep an eye on him,” Yakov grumbled.</p>
<p>“Hey!  I don’t need a babysitter!” Yuri protested.</p>
<p>“No, not <em>you</em>.  <em>You </em>need a spotter.  <em>Viktor </em>needs someone to keep him <em>alive</em> and <em>out of trouble</em>.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” Viktor said with a pout.</p>
<p>“Your Yuuri was doing that job before, but he’s a little busy right now.  Might as well keep the job matched with the name,” Yakov said, making his second joke that evening, much to the shock of the other two occupants in the car.</p>
<p>“Well, the old man had better help me with my jumps if I’m going to be babysitting him,” Yuri said firmly.</p>
<p>“I’d love to help you with your jumps, Yurio!” Viktor said eagerly.  “It’ll be just like…like before!”</p>
<p>Yuri made a noise of disgust.  “On second thought, the old man is too sappy for his own good.  <em>Ugh</em>.”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Viktor and Yuri were at the rink early the next morning, Yuri having grumbled about Viktor “forcing him to wake up at unreasonable hours” without much real annoyance.  After warming up, Viktor asked Yuri to run through the basic choreography of his programs.</p>
<p>After silently watching Yuri skate for a while, Viktor said what he’d been thinking all season.  “Yakov has been too soft on you,” he noted.  “You don’t need pleasantries; you need someone to light a fire under your ass.”</p>
<p>Raising an eyebrow, Yuri looked Viktor up and down: he was wearing black sweatpants that Yuuri had loaned him before he left and a bright pink shirt bearing the rink name.  “And that’s going to be <em>you</em>?”  Yuri scoffed.</p>
<p>“Says the boy without a quad sal,” Viktor retorted.</p>
<p>“I’m not a <em>boy</em>!” Yuri muttered.</p>
<p>“Then let’s prove it – to you, to me, to Yakov…to everyone.  Yakov’s gone soft, and it’s time to show him what he’s lacking now: that fiery passion he used to have.”</p>
<p>“He’s almost as sappy as <em>you</em> now,” Yuri reluctantly agreed – not that he’d ever tell anyone he agreed with Old Man Viktor Nikiforov.</p>
<p>“Well then, what are you waiting for, Yurio?  You’ve done the quad sal on the harness, right?”</p>
<p>“I’ve done it off the harness, too,” Yuri countered.</p>
<p>“Cleanly?” Viktor asked, raising an eyebrow.  Yuri’s silence was enough of an answer.  “Show me where you’re at, then.  Let’s see what we can do with you by Worlds.”</p>
<p>The sun rose while they worked, the light in the rink turning golden just as Yuri landed a solid quad salchow, albeit still underrotated.  The more important fact was that he’d <em>landed</em> it not on his ass but on his blade.  As the fiery sun filled the rink, Viktor could see the passionate fire in Yuri’s eyes for the first time since he’d returned.</p>
<p>Yakov was at the rink by 8:30, a cue to Viktor that he would need to head out soon if he didn’t want to risk being seen by other skaters.  Viktor approached the edge of the rink, taking a drink of water as he watched Yakov deposit his briefcase in his office before returning to check on his skaters.</p>
<p>“Hey, Yakov?” Viktor asked tentatively.</p>
<p>The old coach let out a withering sigh.  “What now, Viktor?”</p>
<p>“Would you…do you have some time to help me with something?  A program.”</p>
<p>Raising an eyebrow, Yakov gave a sharp nod.  “The champion returns already?”</p>
<p>Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Viktor looked out over the ice rink.  “Not quite yet, but…there’s something I need to do.”</p>
<p>Eyeing his skater carefully, Yakov said, “You have me intrigued, Vitya.  Tell me about this program.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri competes in the short program at Japanese Nationals, but things don't go according to plan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It felt wrong to be boarding a plane without Viktor chattering away to ease Yuuri’s travel anxiety.  The last time Yuuri had been on a long-haul international flight alone, he’d been moving from Japan to the Detroit.  Since then, he’d always had a coach or fellow competitor with him; even when he went to the Grand Prix without Celestino, he’d had Viktor.</p>
<p>Viktor.  That was part of the problem, too – with him being so newly alive again, Yuuri was also worrying about how he’d fare by himself for a few days in Russia.  Yuuri certainly trusted Yakov to take care of him – <em>everyone</em> could see the changes in the man after Viktor had died, and Yuuri doubted Yakov would be taking <em>any</em> chances now, but…</p>
<p>…but Viktor was <em>Yuuri’s</em>.</p>
<p>It was an odd thought; Viktor certainly didn’t <em>belong</em> to Yuuri, but…Yuuri’s heart?  That was Viktor’s, and Yuuri was fairly certain Viktor’s heart belonged to him.  For a full year, it had been Yuuri’s duty to keep Viktor safe and happy and love him when others didn’t even know he was there, and to suddenly have Viktor’s spirit ripped from him and placed into his own body?</p>
<p>It didn’t help that with no travel companion, Yuuri was left alone with these thoughts on both legs of his flight, the spiral of “what ifs” keeping him from sleeping.  He desperately wished Viktor had a phone that he could text while he was traveling, but with everything happening so suddenly, they hadn’t managed to get him one yet.</p>
<p>Celestino was waiting at the arrivals for Yuuri, his own plane having landed only an hour ago.  He helped Yuuri find his bags, talking about easy topics until they were safely in the relative-privacy of a taxi headed for their hotel.</p>
<p>“So,” Celestino began, “Yakov sung your praises in my last conversation with him.”</p>
<p>“He did?”</p>
<p>“I’ve never heard him talk about a skater that way before.  He thinks you have incredible potential – it almost sounded like he was trying to scout you permanently, but you know how Russia is about outsiders training with Russian coaches.”</p>
<p>“Hmm…” Yuuri hummed distractedly.  Yakov <em>had </em>made that open-ended coaching offer, but Yuuri had paid it little mind with everything else going on.</p>
<p>“He mentioned to me yesterday that he wants to be available to you on the phone during the competition this week,” Celestino added.  “I told him that wasn’t really necessary and that I’m sure I can handle another competition as your coach, but he insisted.”</p>
<p>That caught Yuuri’s interest.  “He did?”</p>
<p>“Yes.  He mentioned something about a lot of changes this past week and wanting to make sure you got the proper reminders and had your full coaching staff available to you.”</p>
<p><em>Full coaching staff…</em>  As the words rang through Yuuri’s mind, it almost sounded like Yakov meant <em>Viktor</em>.</p>
<p>Forget almost – Yakov <em>definitely </em>meant Viktor.  Yuuri couldn’t see him offering rink side support from halfway around the world for anyone else from the masterclass, and Yakov had promised to help keep Yuuri’s stress levels at a minimum.</p>
<p>“Uh, I think that would probably be helpful,” Yuuri responded.  “Would you mind holding the phone during the competition?”</p>
<p>“Of course not.  Just add it to my list of other coaching duties: official jacket presenter, skate guard wrangler, therapist…” Celestino joked.</p>
<p>Smiling weakly, Yuuri said, “Have I told you lately that I really appreciate everything you do for us – for me?  Because I do.  I wouldn’t be where I am without you, and I know I don’t tell you that enough.”</p>
<p>Waving off Yuuri’s words, Celestino chuckled.  “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty, Yuuri.  While I appreciate the sentiment, I can assure you that you do all the hard work.  What’s a bit of coat holding when I get to see you make magic on the ice every day?”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>It was strange to perform his short program for an audience without Viktor there in some capacity.  Throughout the season, Yuuri had found it ironic that Celestino had unknowingly selected a piece of music about a girl and her dead boyfriend’s spirit – but now, Viktor was no longer a spirt; he was alive with his own body, and he was stuck in Russia while Yuuri was competing in Japan.</p>
<p>Yuuri tried to push his thoughts away before he stepped onto the ice, but it seemed he had not fully succeeded.  In the first half of his short program, Yuuri landed his quad flip and triple axel easily.  He was trying to do his best for Viktor, but his absence was more obvious than ever, especially given the subject of his music.</p>
<p>Going into the second half of the program, Yuuri was beginning to get tired – not as tired as Viktor always claimed he used to get in his own body, but still not as fresh as the beginning of the program.  Combined with his lingering worry about being apart from Viktor, it was the perfect storm for a mistake.</p>
<p>As he set up for his quad toe loop combination, Yuuri could feel that the jump was off as soon as his toe pick hit the ice, but there wasn’t much he could do to fix it in the air.  His landed after what he hoped was four full rotations, but his weight was too far back, throwing off his balance.  He stumbled, falling onto his hip.</p>
<p>There went his combination.</p>
<p>Yuuri picked himself up quickly, mentally shaking off the fall and refocusing on the program.  He would have plenty of time to worry over the botched jump later – for now, he had to finish the rest of his elements.</p>
<p>He pushed as much passion as he could into his step sequence, letting his frustration with himself and his worry for Viktor fuel his dance across the ice.  He was done two spins later.</p>
<p>The crowd roared, but as the music ended and Yuuri’s mind let itself wander back to his mistake, he felt like an utter failure.  The first time he competed without Viktor nearby in over a year and he failed just like he used to, falling on the most valuable element of the whole program.  He gave a strained smile for the crowd as he bowed, but Yuuri was sure Celestino could see through it and knew exactly what he was thinking.</p>
<p>As he stepped off the ice, his coach patted him on the back.  “It’s just one mistake, Yuuri; don’t be too hard on yourself,” Celestino said as he held out Yuuri’s skate guards.  “Besides, Yakov said you made a lot of changes in the last week.  Maybe it wasn’t the wisest move on my part to encourage you to take that masterclass in the middle of the season.”</p>
<p>Yuuri shook his head.  “No, it was me…just like before.  I lost focus, and-”</p>
<p>Offering Yuuri his jacket, Celestino immediately argued, “And then you were right back into the program a second later.  That step sequence?  I don’t know where you find the energy for it!  It was simply immaculate!”</p>
<p>Shoving the phone in Yuuri’s direction, Yuuri saw Yakov’s name on the screen and put it up to his ear without much thought.  “I’m sorry, Yakov, I didn’t focus enough on the toe loop, and-”</p>
<p>“Звезда моя, you were incredible,” Viktor said reverently.  Yuuri swallowed hard to keep himself from saying Viktor’s name out loud, especially since there were surely cameras trained right on his face.  “I’m so proud of you.  We’ll talk later, okay?  But just know that I love you, and one measly fall isn’t going to change that – or the fact that I’m sure you still scored over 90 points.”</p>
<p>Yuuri scoffed.  “I’ll be lucky if I break 85.”</p>
<p>“You’re too hard on yourself,” Viktor said, his words mirroring the critical look Celestino was giving his skater.  “Now, go get your scores, my beautiful star.  I’ll talk to you tonight.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Yuuri murmured, following his coach as they headed toward the elaborately decorated kiss and cry.  “I- thank you; that means a lot.  I can’t put into words how that makes me feel,” he said purposefully, hoping dearly that Viktor would get his meaning.</p>
<p>Viktor’s warm chuckle assured him that his message was clear.  “I love you too, Yuuri.  Look sharp for the cameras!”  The line cut out, and Yuuri was left alone with reality once more.</p>
<p>“I’m certain Yakov would agree with me when I say that one element does not make or break a program,” Celestino said, nudging Yuuri’s shoulder.  “And look how beautiful that axel was!”  Yuuri’s attention was directed to the replay on the television screen and acknowledged that, objectively, it was a <em>damn</em> good axel – probably one of the best he’d ever done in competition.  “I still can’t believe you managed to figure out the Rippon variation.  You’re really something else!”</p>
<p>Of course, like any good replay, the fall on the quad toe loop was shown next.  Yuuri winced as he watched his body fall to the ice, first at normal speed, then slowed down as if to rub in his failure yet again.</p>
<p>“Hmm, I haven’t seen you make a mistake like that on a jump since your junior days,” Celestino observed.  “What a time for a fluke like that to happen!  Ah well.  You did good; I’m proud of you!”</p>
<p><em>I’m proud of you</em>.  Viktor had told Yuuri the same thing.</p>
<p>“The scores please.”  Yuuri tensed, waiting for the inevitably low number.  He was praying to break 85, but anything over 80 would be fair in his mind.  To mess up the <em>combination</em>- “Katsuki Yuuri has earned in the short program 90.84.  He is currently in fourth place.”</p>
<p>Blinking furiously at the screen displaying his score, Yuuri checked it three times: nope, that wasn’t an 8 – it really said 90.  It was very low compared to the scores he earned for a clean short program earlier in the season, but it was much higher than he’d been expecting.</p>
<p>“What’d I tell you, Yuuri?  It was just one element.  The rest of that program was amazing!”</p>
<p>“I…that’s not as bad as I thought,” Yuuri admitted.  “I can work with that.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri regroups before his free skate at Japanese Nationals.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Back at the hotel later that night, Yuuri had eaten dinner and was desperate to talk to Viktor.  “I’m going for a walk,” he told Celestino, zipping up a nondescript athletic jacket and casually tucking his phone into his pocket.</p>
<p>“Don’t be too long; it’s getting late.  Call me if you need anything,” Celestino said, grabbing the television remote and relaxing into his bed.</p>
<p>When the hotel room door was shut quietly behind him, Yuuri withdrew his phone and pressed the call button next to Yakov’s icon.</p>
<p>“Katsuki,” Yakov said gruffly, the best greeting Yuuri was sure he would ever get from the man.</p>
<p>“Hello, sir,” Yuuri said politely, heading for the stairs and beginning his ascent.</p>
<p>“I watched your performance today with Viktor.”  Yuuri winced immediately, preparing to be scolded about his quad.  “I can imagine you were a bit distracted.  Make sure Viktor drills those quad toe loops with you and that you work on some concentration exercises.”</p>
<p>Yakov’s critique was far from the harsh words Yuuri had been expecting.  Breathing a mental sigh of relief, he said, “Yes, sir.  Of course.”</p>
<p>“You’re calling to talk to Vitya, I’m sure,” Yakov said – dare Yuuri even think it – affectionately.  “He’ll be just a moment.  That poodle of his was insisting she go outside.  She’s been stuck to him like glue ever since…”</p>
<p>“I can’t blame her,” Yuuri murmured as he stepped out into the chilly night air of the hotel roof overlooking Tokyo.</p>
<p>“…he’s different,” Yakov said suddenly.  “He’s less…careless than he was.  Less free, but…”</p>
<p>“He knows what it means to lose everything now,” Yuuri said, “and he appreciates it all so much more – Makkachin, his training mates…you.”</p>
<p>Yakov scoffed.  “The boy wouldn’t…”</p>
<p>“One of his biggest regrets was not getting to say goodbye,” Yuuri firmly told the man.  “You had asked me why I really signed up for the masterclass – <em>that </em>was why.  I needed a reason to get him to Saint Petersburg – to you.”</p>
<p>Yakov was silent; Yuuri hoped it was a good silence.</p>
<p>“Here he is,” Yakov said finally.  “Viktor, your boy is on the phone.”</p>
<p>Yuuri could hear Viktor exclaim “Yuuri!” even before Yakov had passed the phone over.</p>
<p>“Katsuki,” Yakov said abruptly, fending off what must have been a pouting Viktor if Viktor’s quiet whining was any indication, “thank you.”</p>
<p>“…of course, sir.  Thank <em>you</em> for…for everything else.”</p>
<p>“Here, Vitya.  Talk to your boy.”</p>
<p>“Yuuri,” Viktor said breathlessly a second later.  “You were amazing!”</p>
<p>“I-”</p>
<p>“I know you’re going to say you fell,” Viktor interrupted, “but that doesn’t make the rest of the program any less beautiful.  We can work on the jumps later if you’re still stressed about it.  I’m convinced it was just a one-time thing, though; you could do a quad toe in your sleep!”  Pausing for a second, Viktor told him softly, “Yuuri…it was an honor to watch you perform – even if it was through a television screen.”</p>
<p>Yuuri closed his eyes, blocking out the bright lights of the city below.  He’d been so focused on skating <em>without Viktor</em> that he hadn’t realized this would be Viktor’s first time in his own body watching him perform – maybe ever.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Vitya,” Yuuri said hoarsely.</p>
<p>“…what was that?”</p>
<p>Eyes flashing open, Yuuri caught his slip.  “Uh- Viktor.  Sorry.  Viktor.”</p>
<p>There was a smile in Viktor’s words as he said, “You can call me Vitya, you know.  I wouldn’t mind at all.  In fact…I would love that.”</p>
<p>Breathing in sharply, Yuuri wondered how this had become his life: Viktor Nikiforov loving him, letting him call him sweet nicknames, specifically <em>wanting </em>Yuuri to…</p>
<p>“Vitya,” Yuuri said again, more firmly this time.</p>
<p>He heard Viktor let out a shaky breath.  “I love you, Yuuri.”</p>
<p>“I love you too, Vitya.”</p>
<p>“And…I’m so incredibly proud of you.”</p>
<p>Looking up at the stars above, only the brightest few visible over all the city lights, Yuuri murmured, “<em>Thank </em>you.”</p>
<p>“Now,” Viktor said more seriously, “about your free skate…”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yakov had called Celestino early the next morning before Yuuri’s practice to go over that day’s arrangement: he insisted on both himself and a Coach Medvedev on the phone with Yuuri throughout the competition.  Furthermore, he wanted the phone to be on speakerphone during the performance itself – something about “loud Russian voices can surely be heard across the rink.”</p>
<p>Yuuri was a little bemused when he heard about the second coach, but he assumed it was simply a cover story to tell Celestino so Viktor could be on the phone call during the competition.  His thoughts had been confirmed that morning in the form of a single text message from Yakov’s phone:</p>
<p>
  <em>You said you missed hearing me.  I can’t wait to see you skate. &lt;3 -V</em>
</p>
<p>It was astounding how much tension left Yuuri’s body at the sight of that single initial.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s morning practice had gone relatively well, but he’d been hesitant to do too many quads after successfully landing one of each.  He didn’t want to have a disastrous fall and leave that as the last image in his mind before the free skate.</p>
<p>Celestino did his best to calm Yuuri down the rest of the day as the competition approached, urging him to rest until the time they needed to leave for the arena.  When they finally arrived, Celestino ushered Yuuri into the athlete’s area and watched quietly as he began stretching.</p>
<p>“You know I’m here for whatever you need, even if it is holding a phone for a mysterious coach you’ve decided to cheat on me with!” Celestino teased Yuuri before he went to change into his costume.</p>
<p>Yuuri, though, was still too keyed up to fully appreciate that Celestino was joking.  Looking like a deer in headlights, he rushed to reassure his coach.  “No, no!  That’s not it.  I-”</p>
<p>Putting his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, Celestino gave him a calming smile.  “Yuuri.  I was <em>kidding</em>.  You know I only want what’s best for you – even if, someday, that might mean leaving me for another coach.  I certainly don’t mind <em>holding a phone</em> for a world-class coach you just spent a week training with.”</p>
<p>Swallowing hard, Yuuri nodded.  He let out a deep breath to calm himself.  “Sorry, sorry.  I just…”</p>
<p>“You’re a little nervous.  It’s okay, Yuuri.  I know yesterday didn’t go according to what you’d imagined, but you have a brand-new day and a new skate ahead of you.  And <em>Stammi Vicino</em>…that’s really where you thrive, isn’t it?” Celestino mused.  “It’s like you have this uncanny ability to feel that one program with your soul.  Let that take over, and just think about being in the moment.  Don’t worry about the last jump or the next spin; just focus on where you are on the ice <em>now</em>.  Do you understand?”</p>
<p>Eyes wide, Yuuri nodded.  “Yes, Coach.”</p>
<p>“And I’ll have your coaches in Saint Petersburg on speakerphone just like we planned.  Go live your moment, Yuuri.”</p>
<p>Yuuri was soon on the ice for his six-minute warmup.  The first minute of the warmup, Yuuri started with double jumps and moved up to triples – but as soon as he tried his triple axel with the Rippon variation, he knew something was off.  He leaned too far back as he landed, falling on his butt.  He grimaced as he picked himself up off the ice.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why can’t I just settle in like I normally do?</em>
</p>
<p>Celestino waved him over almost immediately.  “Here,” he said, holding the phone out across the barrier to Yuuri.  “Coach Medvedev wants to talk to you.”</p>
<p>Glancing nervously at the other skaters still warming up and well aware that his time on the ice was ticking down, Yuuri took the phone.  He didn’t even need to say anything; Viktor began talking almost immediately.</p>
<p>“Yuuri.”  Just hearing his name in that comforting tone had the skater closing his eyes in relief.  “Yuuri, you can do this; you know you can.  I’m here.  I’m watching.  What’s the difference between a voice in your head and a voice on the phone?”  Yuuri breathed in deeply, letting out a relaxed breath.  “You know this program even better than I do at this point and- звезда моя, I want you to show the world what you can do.  It’s time to shine.  Now, give me that quad lutz – both arms up, got it?”</p>
<p>“Yes, V- Coach,” Yuuri breathed out, opening his eyes and blinking quickly as he readjusted to the bright lights of the arena.  “One Rippon lutz, coming right up,” he murmured.</p>
<p>Practically shoving the phone back into Celestino’s hands, Yuuri was skating down the rink with renewed energy as he eyed a clear section of the ice.  He had a mission now: he needed to show Viktor and the rest of the world what he could do.</p>
<p>Gaining speed as he skated the length of the rink, Yuuri moved from his right blade to his left, deepening the edge as he picked into the ice.  He was up in the air, grabbing his left wrist with his right hand as he stretched his arms high above his head.  He felt like time slowed down as he turned two, three, four rotations, his arms relaxing and stretching out to either side as his blade carved deep into the ice upon his landing.</p>
<p>The silence in his head was interrupted by the roar of the crowd; from across the arena, he could see Celestino’s shocked face, the expression only growing more pronounced as Yuuri skated back to him to see what Viktor’s thoughts were.</p>
<p>“You just- Yuuri, <em>did you learn that in Russia in a week?</em>”</p>
<p>“Something like that,” Yuuri told his coach, taking the phone back.  “And now?” he asked Viktor.</p>
<p>“Beautiful, звезда моя.  Do that in the program today.  Make them all see you as the star I know you are.  <em>Shine</em>, Yuuri, and know you can do this.”</p>
<p>A few minutes later, the warmup was called to an end, and Yuuri grabbed his skate guards from Celestino as he made his way off the ice.  He followed the other skaters backstage, waiting until their names were called to perform.  Yuuri didn’t bother putting his earbuds in; he only had two skaters before him, so he kept moving to stay limber and warm, occasionally glancing over at the phone that was still connected to Viktor and Yakov.</p>
<p>The time passed quickly until Yuuri was ushered back into the arena, warming up on the ice for a few short minutes as the previous skater’s scores were announced.  Celestino, as promised, had Yuuri’s cell phone in his hand.  When Yuuri came over to the boards for his final words before skating, it was Yakov giving them on speakerphone, Viktor having gone temporarily quiet so as not to risk Celestino or the spectators noticing anything familiar about his voice.</p>
<p>“Katsuki,” Yakov said sternly, “I don’t think there’s much more I can tell you that Coach Medvedev hasn’t already.  You know what you are capable of; you know what your <em>body</em> can do.  Most importantly, you know who you’re skating for.  This was Viktor’s program.”  Yuuri held his breath.  “Make him proud.”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” Yuuri murmured, unconsciously bowing to the phone in respect, then shaking Celestino’s hand and bowing to his coach.</p>
<p><em>You know who you’re skating for.</em>  Of course Yuuri did, even without Yakov’s reminder, but he’d certainly made it clear.  <em>Make Viktor proud.</em></p>
<p>So Yuuri would.</p>
<p>Yuuri skated to the center of the rink, falling into the opening pose Viktor had choreographed years ago.  Yuuri longed for Viktor to be with him, to have him safely ensconced in the necklace once more where they could easily trade positions throughout the program, gliding as one man then the next a second later, but he knew that was a selfish thought.  Viktor was his own man again, and he could <em>watch</em> this, so Yuuri had to make it the best yet – for Viktor.</p>
<p>Every time he passed his coach, Yuuri could just barely hear the sounds of Viktor and Yakov cheering for him on speakerphone, and it was enough to keep the stress that had gotten to him the day before at bay.</p>
<p><em>For Viktor.  For Viktor.  For Viktor</em>, he told himself over and over, moving through each step and motion carefully because they were <em>for Viktor</em> and filling each jump with renewed power because it was <em>for Viktor</em>.</p>
<p>The whole program was for Viktor, and he hoped that one day, the world would know it.</p>
<p>Yuuri found himself in his ending pose with little recollection of the actual elements he’d completed – he clearly recalled the quad lutz, both hands over his head as he reached for Viktor with all his might, but everything else was a blur.  All he knew was that he’d done it for Viktor, and he hoped that showed through in the program.</p>
<p>Taking his bows, Yuuri collected a few stuffed animals that had fallen close to him as he made his way over to his coach.  He was pulled off the ice into a side hug, Celestino patting him firmly on the back.  Breathlessly, Yuuri said, “I don’t remember anything.  How’d I do?”</p>
<p>He could hear a familiar laugh from the phone.</p>
<p>“You did beautifully, Yuuri; the best I’ve seen from you yet,” Celestino said, passing Yuuri his skate guards so he could go wait for his scores.  Yuuri took his jacket next, tucking it under one arm as he grabbed his phone from his coach’s hand, taking it off speakerphone so they wouldn’t risk the cameras picking up anything further from Viktor.</p>
<p>“What’d you think?” he asked the only person whose opinion on his program <em>really</em> mattered.</p>
<p>“Flawless, my Yuuri.  Absolutely immaculate.  Better than I ever did in either of our bodies,” Viktor told him seriously.  “What were you thinking about while you skated?”</p>
<p>Yuuri swallowed hard, glancing first at Celestino, then up at the jumbotron where his face was displayed for all to see – for Viktor to see.  “You know the answer to that,” he finally said.</p>
<p>Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, Yuuri watched the replays on the monitor in front of him while Viktor remained dutifully silent.</p>
<p>Finally, the judges had finished their scoring.  “Katsuki Yuuri has earned a free program score of 210.03 for a total score of 300.87.  He is currently in first place.”</p>
<p>The arena erupted in cheers.  Yuuri could hardly believe it: even with his abysmal short program, he’d broken 300 points again and had performed his best free program of the season.</p>
<p>“Congratulations, my Yuuri!” Viktor exclaimed, but the skater was too shocked to respond.  There were still three competitors left to go, and Yuuri just hoped his free skate was enough.</p>
<p>Thirty nervous minutes later, Viktor having stayed on the phone as a silent support the entire time, Yuuri’s score remained unbeaten.</p>
<p>“Look at you!” Celestino cheered.  “<em>National champion</em>!  Did you ever imagine this?”  Yuuri was still gaping at the results on the screen, shaking his head in response.  “You’ve worked so hard, Yuuri – and what a skate today!  You’ve earned this.  Congratulations!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri and Viktor return to Detroit and have to tell a few more people about Viktor's return.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay in updating!  I've been a bit burnt out lately, but I hope you enjoy these chapters! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All Yuuri wanted was to <em>sleep</em>, but the gala, banquet, and media interviews the following day kept him busy.  As the national champion, Yuuri had been selected to attend both Four Continents and Worlds again, and this year, he was going in as a medal favorite.  The pressure was clearly on from the questions the reporters were asking, and Yuuri was growing more anxious every minute he was without Viktor.</p>
<p>He didn’t even get a good night’s rest afterward; Celestino had booked them on an early flight back to Detroit the following morning, so they were out of the hotel and heading across the world by 4:30am.</p>
<p>Hours later, Yuuri had never been so relieved to get off a plane.  He followed Celestino to collect their baggage, then assured his coach that he would call an Uber and be fine to get home by himself.  Celestino, too tired to argue, congratulated Yuuri on his gold medal once more, then went to find his car in long-term parking.</p>
<p>Once Celestino was out of view, Yuuri turned and headed back toward the arrivals area.  He had two hours to wait until the Aeroflot flight landed from Saint Petersburg, and it simultaneously felt like an eternity and only a few seconds.  Yuuri had been away from Viktor for nearly a week now – what was two more hours?</p>
<p>The time passed achingly quickly, and before Yuuri knew it, Viktor’s flight was listed on the arrivals board.  Tears prickled at the corners of Yuuri’s eyes the moment he caught sight of the edges of that familiar silver hair – the rest of it was covered by a nondescript black baseball cap, and dark sunglasses averted the gaze of anyone trying to get a good look at Viktor’s face.  Yuuri was bouncing on his feet as he waited for Viktor to leave the arrivals area and enter the main airport.</p>
<p>Viktor noticed Yuuri only seconds later, and he sprinted the remaining distance until he entered the area non-travelers could access.  “Yuuri!”  The relief was evident in his tone as Yuuri slammed into his chest, the shorter man shaking slightly.  “Yuuri?” he asked worriedly.</p>
<p>“Missed you,” Yuuri murmured, sniffling as he futilely tried to stifle his tears.</p>
<p>Viktor let out a sigh, smiling slightly as he rested his cheek against Yuuri’s head.  “I missed you, too, звезда моя.  Let’s never be apart again.”</p>
<p>“Sounds good to me,” Yuuri agreed, giving Viktor’s waist a tight squeeze before finally unwinding his arms and taking Viktor’s hand in his own.  “We need to call an Uber, and then we’ll figure out how we’re going to manage…<em>this</em>…when we get back to my apartment.”</p>
<p>“That sounds perfect, Yuuri – anything sounds perfect now that I’m back with you.”</p>
<p>Yuuri blushed, ducking his head so Viktor wouldn’t notice.  Grabbing his suitcases and the two bags Viktor had carried on the plane with him, they began their journey to Yuuri’s apartment.</p>
<p>Viktor had been to the apartment before – of course he had, he’d <em>lived</em> as Yuuri for a year – but it was a very different thing to now experience the life he’d been secretly living for the past year in his real body, fully <em>alive</em> again.  After putting their bags away in Yuuri’s room, they both settled on the couch.  Viktor tugged Yuuri gently to his chest, immediately feeling the tension melt away from Yuuri’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“I don’t know how I ever lived without you,” Yuuri murmured.  “You’d think it would have been easy to go back to how things were before, but…”</p>
<p>“I know exactly what you mean,” Viktor said.  “It was good to spend time at my old rink, but constantly needing to hide?  And not having you there?  I’d much rather be here with you.”</p>
<p>Yuuri hummed in agreement.  “Phichit should be home in a few hours.  He has a study group and likes to go to the dance studio afterwards, so we’ve got some time to ourselves.  When he gets here, though, you should probably just…hang out in my room for a while, maybe?  I want to explain things to him without blindsiding him with a dead man in his apartment.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s brow furrowed.  “But Yuuri, he already knows about me.”</p>
<p>“Knowing that you’re a spirit trapped in a necklace and seeing proof of some kind of insane necromancy are two <em>very</em> different things, though, don’t you think?  You saw how Yakov and Yuri reacted, and Yuri knew about as much as Phichit does.”</p>
<p>“That’s true…” Viktor conceded.  “I suppose that’s best.  Should we cuddle in your room, then?  When Phichit gets home, you can go talk to him to ease him into the whole ‘dead man Viktor Nikiforov in my apartment’ situation.”</p>
<p>Yuuri hummed.  “That’s probably a smart idea,” he agreed.  Wearily sitting up, he got to his feet and offered Viktor a hand, pulling him up as well.  Once standing, though, Viktor refused to relinquish Yuuri’s hand, instead linking their fingers together and giving Yuuri’s hand a meaningful squeeze.</p>
<p>“C’mon,” Yuuri said.  “Let’s go relax for a little bit.  We’ve both had a few <em>very</em> long days, and-”</p>
<p>Yuuri was interrupted by the apartment door swiftly opening.  “Yuuri!  My roommate, Japan’s <em>national champion!</em>  I think this deserves- <em>WHAT THE FUCK</em>?!” Phichit screeched, his backpack slamming to the floor with a <em>thump</em> and Phichit very nearly following it.  Knees weakened in shock, he carefully lowered himself to the floor, staring slack jawed at the two – <em>two </em>– living, breathing men in front of him.  “V-<em>Viktor</em>?”</p>
<p>“…shit,” Yuuri mumbled, just as Viktor brightly said, “Hi, Phichit!  Nice to meet you for real!”</p>
<p>“…but you’re <em>dead</em>,” Phichit managed to utter.</p>
<p>“I was, yes,” Viktor agreed, “but I’m not anymore!”</p>
<p>“I can <em>see </em>that!” Phichit exclaimed, blinking furiously as if to make sure he was really, truly seeing a <em>dead man</em> being <em>not-so-dead</em> in his apartment.  “Uh, <em>Yuuri</em>?  What’s going on?  Why does your dead skater spirit boyfriend have a <em>body</em>?”  Narrowing his eyes, he added accusatorily, “What did you <em>do</em>?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t do anything!” Yuuri argued.  “And…we don’t actually know <em>what</em> happened,” he admitted, casting a sideways look at Viktor.  “I was going to explain this to you tonight before…”</p>
<p>“Before I found you harboring a <em>dead man</em> in our apartment?!”</p>
<p>“…yes.  Before that.”</p>
<p>“Okay, well, you can skip the whole ‘Viktor’s alive!’ part of the discussion and get straight to the <em>how </em>and <em>why</em> and <em>what happens now </em>parts.”</p>
<p>“Like I said, we don’t know what happened.  One minute, Viktor was in my head just like normal, and then he saw a light.”</p>
<p>“A light,” Phichit echoed dubiously.</p>
<p>“Yes.  A light.  We thought he was…you know,” Yuuri said, making a vague gesture.</p>
<p>“Dying,” Viktor supplied cheekily.</p>
<p>Yuuri offered him an unimpressed look.  “Yes.  <em>That</em>.  He saw a light, he went <em>into</em> the light, I cried a lot, and…the next morning, there were two of us.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh.  And what are you two going to do about this now?” Phichit asked.</p>
<p>Yuuri looked to Viktor for an answer that question.  “We need to tell Celestino, obviously, since Yuuri needs me to keep coaching him.”</p>
<p>“<em>Keep </em>coaching him?”</p>
<p>“Viktor gave me, uh, more than a few pointers while we were sharing a body,” Yuuri reminded him.  “And…well, I need him by my side at competitions.  I didn’t have him during the short program at Nationals, and we all saw how well <em>that </em>went.”</p>
<p>With a raised eyebrow, Phichit commented, “So <em>that’s </em>what that was about.  Well, I suppose that makes sense.”  Turning back to the not-so-dead man, Phichit said, “So.  Coaching.  What else?  Are you coming back to competition?”</p>
<p>Viktor looked guilty, glancing quickly at Yuuri but refusing to meet his eyes.  “I…I’m not sure.  We still need to get my name cleared, and…I don’t know if I want to compete.  My last memory at a competition is of dying.  I’m not sure how I’ll react to being at a competition in general, even if I’m not skating in it.  We’ll have to see how things go.”</p>
<p>“You know Yuuri would <em>love </em>to skate against you,” Phichit said knowingly.</p>
<p>“<em>Phichit</em>!” Yuuri hissed in displeasure.  Turning to address Viktor, he said seriously, “I don’t care if you never skate another day in your life.  I’m happy to have you in whatever capacity I can.  I’m just happy to <em>have</em> <em>you</em>.”  As if to emphasize his point (and reassure himself that Viktor was <em>alive</em>), Yuuri gave Viktor’s hand a firm squeeze.</p>
<p>“I know, звезда моя.”  Viktor smiled warmly, squeezing Yuuri’s hand in return.  “Phichit, I’ll make those kinds of decisions later.  My coach does know that I’m…<em>back</em>…though, so should I need him, well…”</p>
<p>“And he’ll be helping us get Viktor’s cover story together,” Yuuri added.</p>
<p>Raising an eyebrow, Phichit asked, “What <em>is</em> his cover story?”</p>
<p>“I’m mostly leaving the specifics to Yakov’s discretion, but the general idea is that I had to fake my death and go into witness protection.  Something about getting on the wrong side of the Bratva and having a few too many death threats,” Viktor said with a shrug.</p>
<p>“…riiiiight.  Totally plausible,” Phichit said, finally finding the strength to stand once more and pickup his bag.  “Well, before all of <em>this </em>happened,” he said, waving in the direction of Yuuri, Viktor, and their linked hands, “I <em>was</em> going to say that I was ordering a celebratory pizza in honor of Yuuri’s win.  I mean, I’m <em>still</em> going to order a pizza, but now we might need <em>two</em> pizzas, and I think I need a beer.”</p>
<p>“Phichit, you’re not old enough,” Yuuri scolded him.</p>
<p>“Not in America, maybe, but dead people should also stay dead in America,” his roommate retorted.  Stalking out of the room, Phichit yelled over his shoulder, “<em>And keep any funny business at a reasonable level!</em>”</p>
<p>“Funny business?” Viktor echoed in confusion, turning to find that Yuuri was as red as a tomato.  “Yuuri?”</p>
<p>“Uh, nothing!” Yuuri squeaked.  “Pizza.  What do you like on pizza?” he asked quickly, trying to make Viktor forget about Phichit’s comment.</p>
<p>Viktor shrugged.  “I’m sure anything you like will be fine.”</p>
<p>“But what do <em>you</em> like?”</p>
<p>“…I’m not sure, honestly.  I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve had pizza.”</p>
<p>Yuuri blanched.  “<em>What</em>?”</p>
<p>“I started training – <em>really </em>training – at age seven.  Training in Russia comes with a very strict diet, so…  Most of the times I had it were with you…<em>as</em> you…so I’m not quite sure what <em>my </em>body likes.”</p>
<p>Eyeing his boyfriend carefully, Yuuri nodded to himself.  “Looks like we’ll be introducing you to the wonders of a college student’s diet!”  Tugging Viktor behind him, Yuuri led him to Phichit’s room, knocking quickly on the door.  “Phichit?  Viktor doesn’t know what kind of pizza he likes.  Go crazy.”</p>
<p>The door was ripped open, Phichit looking shocked.  “But he’s had pizza!  <em>We’ve</em> had pizza in the last year, and he-”</p>
<p>“Different taste buds, though,” Viktor said with a shrug.</p>
<p>“…well, we can’t have that.  Two surprise pizzas coming right up!”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>With one difficult conversation down, Yuuri knew that the harder one would need to be had the following day.  He only had a light training session planned, but he wouldn’t have Viktor there as his coach – and that was exactly why Yuuri needed to talk to Celestino as soon as possible.</p>
<p>“Coach?” Yuuri asked tentatively, hovering in the doorway.</p>
<p>“Yuuri!  Come, sit down.”</p>
<p>Yuuri approached the chairs he’d sat in a thousand times before, thinking back to how nervous he was the first time he’d been pulled into Celestino’s office – and somehow, he was a thousand times more nervous now to have this conversation.</p>
<p>“I have something to tell you,” Yuuri began, “and…well, I’m not quite sure how to go about it.”</p>
<p>Celestino raised his eyebrows, and he looked a mix between concerned and curious.  “If you were one of my ladies, I’d think you were pregnant.”</p>
<p>For a split second, Yuuri worried that Viktor was going to tease him mercilessly for that comment – until he remembered that Viktor wasn’t in his head to hear the comment, which was the reason for this conversation in the first place.  Still, Yuuri turned bright red at the thought.</p>
<p>“Uh, no.  Not that.  <em>Definitely</em> not that.”  Yuuri shuddered at the thought.  “And before you suggest it, I didn’t get anyone <em>else </em>pregnant, either!”</p>
<p>Celestino chuckled.  “Good.  There’s enough people in the world – we don’t need to be adding to that at the moment.”</p>
<p>Yuuri chuckled weakly.  “Yeah…about that…”  Celestino’s eyes narrowed, watching his skater carefully.  “So, uh, hypothetically, what are your feelings on necromancy?”</p>
<p>“<em>Yuuri</em>…”</p>
<p>“Just hypothetically!” Yuuri quickly interjected.  “I certainly didn’t do anything, and I don’t know how he returned, but I’m certainly not complaining, and…” he babbled on, only stopping when he noticed that Celestino’s eyebrows had now merged with his hairline.</p>
<p>“Yuuri Katsuki.  <em>Necromancy?  </em>What are you going on about?”</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Yuuri decided there was really only one way to answer that question – he just hoped Celestino wouldn’t faint like Yakov had.  “Viktor Nikiforov is alive.”</p>
<p>All things considered, Celestino took the news relatively well – that is, if you consider asking your skater if he needs to be admitted to the psych ward as ‘relatively well,’ which Yuuri certainly did.  Convincing him that Viktor was back was easier; Yuuri just needed the man to walk into Celestino’s office for the coach’s eyes to go wide and for him to stutter out all sorts of questions.</p>
<p>In the end, many of those questions couldn’t be answered, but Celestino accepted Viktor nonetheless, agreeing to let the once-dead man continue working with Yuuri as a coach for the few weeks until Yuuri would travel to the Four Continents Championships (and <em>that</em>, oddly enough, might have been the bigger shock to Celestino – Viktor Nikiforov, <em>coaching</em>?).</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Smuggling Viktor into the rink in Detroit was slightly easier than getting him into the one in Saint Petersburg – but only slightly.  While people weren’t expecting to see Viktor in Detroit (you know, because he was from Russia and also legally dead), even the youngest of skaters had grown up with him being the pinnacle of the skating world and would have recognized the once-living legend.  Luckily, though, Yuuri was able to arrange some relatively private ice time with Phichit during the off hours on the condition that Viktor help Phichit train as well to take some of the burden off Celestino.</p>
<p>It was during one of those private training sessions that Phichit decided to be unusually observant.  “Hey…your eyes have stopped doing that weird color thing in the lights,” Phichit noticed.  Yuuri bit his lip, waiting for Phichit to make the connection.  Viktor cleared his throat, causing Phichit to look from Yuuri to him.  “What is it, Viktor- oh.  <em>Oh</em>.  I suppose if you two aren’t stuck together that it would make sense why Yuuri’s eyes aren’t doing that weird swap thing anymore.”</p>
<p>“People always say the eyes are the windows to the soul…” Viktor supplied.</p>
<p>“…huh.  Maybe they were right after all,” Phichit commented, his mind once again reconciling Dead World Champion Viktor Nikiforov with Yuuri’s strange spirit boyfriend Viktor who now stood proudly in his own body.</p>
<p>“Okay, back to work!” Viktor declared, clapping his hands to draw Phichit out of his thoughts.  “Yuuri, we need to be working on your quad salchow.  I know you think it’s too soon to have it ready for Four Continents, but I know you can do it!  And Phichit, we need to work on your quad toe – you’re getting sloppy with your air position, and that’s why you’ve been underrotating it lately.”</p>
<p>Phichit shook his head, shaking all the stray thoughts out of the way as he took a sip of water.  “Whatever you say, Coach!” he said, pushing away from the boards to watch as Viktor demonstrated a better way to adjust his jumping technique.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri and Viktor arrive at the World Championships and are faced with a small issue.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yakov hadn’t been able to get Viktor’s cover story completed by the Four Continents Championships, so Yuuri and Phichit went with just Celestino as their coach, and Viktor reluctantly stayed in Detroit.  It still felt unnatural to skate without Viktor nearby despite having done it for years before he’d met the man.  Luckily, Yuuri held it together better than he had at Japanese Nationals, especially since Celestino now knew who was on the phone and could ensure Viktor had full access as Yuuri’s long-distance second coach.  In the end, Yuuri had fallen on his quad salchow attempt and stumbled out of his quad flip combination, but he’d still managed to easily secure the gold medal.  Phichit joined him on the podium as he proudly took bronze.</p>
<p>Across the world, Chris won the European Championships with a score only one point higher.  The two were the gold medal favorites leading into the World Championships, their supposed rivalry having been dubbed ‘The best rivalry since Christophe Giacometti versus Viktor Nikiforov.’  (Both Yuuri and Viktor had to chuckle at the headlines – if only Chris knew that Viktor now coached Yuuri and that he was now <em>alive</em> again.)</p>
<p>Journalists wanted to conduct interviews with both Yuuri and Chris and their respective coaches in the lead up to the World Championships, wanting to pit their statements against one another to increase the hype around their rivalry.  Yuuri dutifully answered their questions, conducting the short interview in Celestino’s office with most of the topics being centered on his meteoric rise to the top in the last year and his goals for the future.  When Yuuri stated that he would be thrilled to win any color medal at Worlds, the reporter pressed him to say he wanted gold.  Yuuri refused to feed into the drama, instead saying, “I hope to skate clean at Worlds so the audience can come to understand the true meaning of my programs this season – that would be better than any medal.”</p>
<p>The writeup of Chris’ interview, on the other hand, was a bit more aggressive.  Chris seemed perfectly polite, only having kind words to say about his competitors.  When asked about Yuuri, he was quoted saying, “He’s become an incredible skater in the last year – it seems like he’s really found his inspiration on the ice.  I look forward to vying with him for the gold medal.”  Upon reading that, Yuuri was a bit in awe of the man’s confidence in him, but Viktor assured him that it was well-deserved.</p>
<p>Chris’ coach, on the other hand, was a bit more assured in his own skater’s abilities: “Christophe is the finest athlete the skating world has seen since the IJS was implemented.  He’s finally earning the gold medals he’s long deserved, and no upstart from Japan will change that.”  Yuuri bristled at being called an upstart, but the quote surely had to have been mistranslated or lost its context.  It wasn’t like coaches to go after specific athletes in fluff articles, especially when the skaters themselves were on good terms.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>The month until Worlds was spent very differently for Yuuri and Viktor.  Yuuri was training as if his life depended on it – running programs, drilling jumps, following <em>both</em> of his coach’s orders as they stood side by side next to the boards critiquing his newly-stabilized quad salchow.</p>
<p>Viktor, on the other hand, was trying to come back from the legal dead.  When neither he nor Yakov were busy coaching, they were in contact to sort out…everything – his dog (whom he Facetimed daily), his ID, his apartment, his bank accounts, what was left of his belongings (which was a lot, apparently, because Yakov was overly sentimental and had simply decided to shove <em>everything</em> of Viktor’s into a storage unit to deal with much, <em>much </em>later).  Viktor was also supposed to handle the logistics of getting them to Worlds, and it appeared that he had successfully done that when their flight and hotel check-in went as seamlessly as they always did.  Yuuri slept peacefully that night curled tightly around Viktor, even if he was a bit anxious about the upcoming competition.</p>
<p>The following morning, they both awoke and dressed for Yuuri’s first practice session.  Viktor and Yuuri would go on ahead to get their credentials while Celestino would meet them at the venue with Phichit a bit later.  It was all supposed to go smoothly.</p>
<p>If only Viktor had actually remembered to get in contact with someone from the ISU.  Instead, many people did doubletakes as he crossed the entry hall to approach the registration desk with Yuuri by his side.</p>
<p>“I’m Yuuri Katsuki, and this is one of my coaches,” Yuuri said to the woman as she scanned her registration list.  The woman looked exhausted, probably from many long days of setting up the arena and the early hour of the morning; she hardly even glanced at the pair in front of her.</p>
<p>“Yes, I see you right here.  And your coach’s name?”</p>
<p>“Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri supplied.</p>
<p><em>That</em> seemed to wake her up.  Her hands froze over the list, eyes widening as she looked up.  She glanced at Yuuri’s face first before her eyes landed on Viktor’s.  Even with his new haircut, his signature silver locks long-discarded in a waste bin back in Russia, Viktor was immediately recognizable.  The woman gaped, then swallowed hard.  “I’m- I’m going to need to contact…<em>someone</em>…about this.  And- just- <em>hold on, please</em>!” she squeaked, quickly rising from her chair and running down the hallway.</p>
<p>Yuuri’s brow furrowed, then he glanced at Viktor.  “You <em>did</em> call the ISU, right?”</p>
<p>Viktor, to his credit, looked sheepish.  “I, uh, might have forgotten?  I called a lot of people in a lot of places.”</p>
<p>Eyes rolling to the ceiling, Yuuri whispered something that sounded vaguely like, “Give me strength to get through this day,” before taking a deep breath.  “Call Yakov,” he said instead, his words much more calm that he actually felt.</p>
<p>Viktor immediately complied.  Yakov had always seemed to have the solution to Viktor’s problems (many of which were of his own creation), and he would surely be able to help with this, too.</p>
<p>The woman hurried back, three people following her.  Two of them looked like security, but the third held a walkie-talkie and was bearing an event organizer badge.</p>
<p>“Mr. Katsuki, we can issue your credential now, but your…coach…will need to wait for confirmation before we can allow him in,” the organizer said, her voice frazzled but stern.</p>
<p>“I understand, ma’am,” Yuuri said, casting a sidelong glance at Viktor.  “We’re straightening things out on our end right now.  I’m sure this must not be a very regular occurrence here,” he allowed with a weak chuckle, trying to lessen the tension in the now-silent hall.</p>
<p>“Yuuri, I don’t mind if you go on ahead and start warming up,” Viktor offered, looking between Yuuri and the direction of the athlete’s warmup area.  “I don’t want to keep you waiting.”</p>
<p>Yuuri smiled warmly, shaking his head.  “Don’t worry about it, Viktor; I’ll be fine.  This shouldn’t take too long.”</p>
<p>True to his word, it didn’t; Yakov had phoned the ISU while he was on his way to the rink, so by the time he was walking through the doors, Viktor was already being issued his credential.</p>
<p>“My other coach, Celestino Cialdini, should be coming soon with my training mate,” Yuuri informed the lady once things had settled down.  They waited another moment for Yakov, Yuri, and Georgi to get their credentials before they all headed toward the athlete’s area together.</p>
<p>“Viktor Nikiforov,” Yakov said sternly once they were out of hearing range of the workers, “I thought your new lease on life would cause you to be a little more <em>careful</em>.”</p>
<p>Viktor looked properly ashamed before voicing a quiet, “Sorry, Yakov.  Sorry, Yuuri.”  Georgi scoffed, glaring at the wall; he didn’t say a single word to either of them.  Yuri, to the casual observer, never looked away from his phone, but he remained silently alert until they got to the athlete’s area.</p>
<p>“What was that all about?” Yuuri asked when the two groups separated.</p>
<p>“I said I was sorry, Yuuri; I’ve just been-”</p>
<p>Yuuri shook his head quickly, stopping in an empty area to place his bags and begin stretching.  “No; not you.  Georgi.  Did you murder his cat or something?”</p>
<p>“Murder his…<em>Yuuri!</em>” Viktor exclaimed, eyes wide, mouth gaping.</p>
<p>“What?  I was just kidding, Viktor.  You were his idol, weren’t you?  He’s been pretty rude to you.”</p>
<p>“No,” Viktor said tersely, “I wasn’t his idol.  He thought he was my rival – and domestically, maybe he was.  But Yuuri – <em>murder</em>?  Do you think he…?”</p>
<p>“Do I think he what, Vitya?” Yuuri asked quietly, pausing suddenly in his stretching with his arms still raised above his head.</p>
<p>“Could Georgi have…m-”  Viktor swallowed harshly around the word.  “Could he have…?”</p>
<p>Yuuri froze, watching Viktor in horror.  “You think he…?”</p>
<p>Viktor looked helplessly lost.  “I don’t know, Yuuri; I just…there’s no reason he should be <em>this</em> cold towards me, you know?”</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>After the fiasco while getting their credentials, Yuuri’s first practice went remarkably smoothly.  Yuuri felt like something was off, but his full short program run-through was clean, which left Viktor (and Celestino, not that Celestino was paying too much attention now that Viktor had all-but-taken over Yuuri’s training) quite proud.  Viktor made him practice his quad salchow a few times, quietly explaining that he didn’t have Viktor as a backup anymore to help him in the actual competition (not that Yuuri <em>wanted </em>that help, but Viktor had a point).</p>
<p>While the practice had, thankfully, been closed to the public, word had gotten out about Viktor’s return from the dead.  As soon as they left the rink, they were swarmed by reporters and fans alike, many of them screaming questions at Viktor and even more simply <em>screaming</em> with tears running down their faces upon his appearance.</p>
<p>Yuuri tugged Viktor after him into the hotel shuttle, picking a seat in the far back on the opposite side from the gathered crowd.  It didn’t help much; seconds later, the crowd has rounded the bus and were pressed up against the glass.  The driver, thankfully, refused to open the shuttle doors for anyone without an event pass, and minutes later, they were on their way back to the hotel breathing sighs of relief.</p>
<p>“That was…” Yuuri murmured.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Viktor agreed, looking a little shellshocked.  “I didn’t expect the news to get out that quickly.  I’m sorry, Yuuri.”</p>
<p>“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Vitya,” Yuuri told him sternly, squeezing his hand.  “You can’t control what other people do.  I’m glad that you’re with me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Viktor finally gets a chance to talk to Chris.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the wait!  I guarantee you it's been worth it though...I finished editing the five remaining chapters of this fic, so they'll be posted today! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Viktor and Yuuri found peace in their hotel room for the next few hours, ordering room service for dinner to avoid any more crowds until the following day.  They ate quietly, a movie playing in the background as Yuuri tried to relax.</p>
<p>Shortly after they’d set their dishes in the hallway outside the room, there was a knock on the door.  Viktor went to answer it, expecting to find Celestino or Phichit on the other side looking to talk to Yuuri – or, perhaps, one of the Russian team members looking to scold him (again) for forgetting to contact the ISU.  He didn’t expect to find Christophe nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.</p>
<p>“Dear lord, it’s true,” Chris whispered, eyes wide as he stared at his former rival – and, more importantly, his friend.  “Yuuri?” he asked, peering further into the room.  His eyes darted back and forth between the two skaters.</p>
<p>“Hey, Chris,” Yuuri murmured, watching the other skater carefully for his reaction.  “C’mon in.”</p>
<p>The room was silent for a moment as Viktor returned to sit next to Yuuri on one bed, Chris sitting carefully on the foot of the unused bed across from them.</p>
<p>“It was all over the news.  I thought you’d have seen pictures by now,” Viktor admitted.</p>
<p>“You know me; when it comes to competition, Josef takes my phone so I can stay 100% in ‘the zone,’” Chris said, making air quotes for emphasis.  “So I…I don’t even know what to say.  Think.  I don’t…they really faked your death?”</p>
<p>Yuuri turned to Viktor, searching his face carefully and watching as the man swallowed hard.  This was Viktor’s decision to make – how good of a friend was Chris?  How close had they been?</p>
<p>“Yes,” Yuuri said finally, trying to save Viktor from lying to a friend or admitting to insanity, just as Viktor said, “No.”</p>
<p>Looking confused, Chris waited for them to say more, but the words never came.  Instead, Yuuri looked wide-eyed at his boyfriend.  “Viktor…?” Yuuri prompted.</p>
<p>Standing from the hotel bed, Viktor went to the door, peering out into the hallway before shutting it again and locking it firmly.  Oddly, he went to the bathroom next, the door swinging shut for just a moment and the sound of the shifting shower curtain echoing through the otherwise silent room.  Viktor was back seconds later, setting lightly on the bed and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.</p>
<p>“No, Chris.  They didn’t fake my death,” Viktor stated calmly.  “I actually died.”</p>
<p>The room was eerily silent, and Yuuri felt like he was watching Chris’ thoughts play out on his face: first confusion, then shock, then denial.</p>
<p>“Like…you were injured?  You went into a coma or something?” Chris tried to clarify.  Yuuri wished things were that simple.</p>
<p>“No, Chris; I mean I really <em>died</em>-died.  No hospitals, no nothing…dead on the scene.  Murdered, just like the headlines said.  They weren’t wrong.”</p>
<p>Chris shook his head, slowly at first then more emphatically.  “That’s not possible.  Absolutely not.”  Looking between Viktor and Yuuri and seeing the solemn expression on Yuuri’s face, Chris froze.  “No.  You’re both pulling some elaborate prank.  Viktor’s death was faked, that’s what the ISU and the media and the Russian Federation said, and you’re just trying to…to get back at me or something for…I don’t know <em>what</em>, but-”  Chris was taking sharp, quick breaths, his eyes wide as he tried to rationalize to himself what <em>must</em> have happened to Viktor because his best friend couldn’t have <em>really</em> died.</p>
<p>“Chris,” Yuuri said calmly, trying to offer as much comfort as he could, “it’s true; Viktor died, and he came back a few months ago.”</p>
<p>Chris blanched.  “A few <em>months</em> ago?!  And we’re all just finding out <em>now</em>?!”</p>
<p>“Well, obviously he needed to sort some things out first,” Yuuri explained.  “Before that, he was…uh…”  Yuuri hesitated, uncertain if Viktor wanted to tell the story of the necklace, too.</p>
<p>“It’s okay, Yuuri; you can tell him.  Although…Chris, I’m not sure you’ll believe it,” Viktor said gently.</p>
<p>Chris scoffed.  “I don’t believe <em>any</em> of this.  I’m just…the Viktor <em>I </em>know – <em>knew</em> – wouldn’t lie to me about dying for a <em>prank</em>.”</p>
<p>“Exactly,” Viktor agreed, his tone stern and leaving no room for Chris to argue.  His friend looked startled, and Viktor pressed on.  “The Viktor Nikiforov you <em>know </em>would never lie to you about something like this.  A prank would be putting hair dye in your shampoo.  This is no <em>prank</em>, Christophe.  I died.  I was brutally murdered, and I <em>wish </em>that it were all a lie and that I had gone into witness protection to hide from the Bratva for some stupid reason, but it’s not.  I died, I had to endure all of that <em>pain</em> on the way out, and I somehow got brought back.”  Viktor paused to take a deep breath, relaxing his hands that had somehow balled themselves into fists while he was speaking.  “The Viktor Nikiforov you <em>know </em>is right here, and I would not lie to you like this.”</p>
<p>Yuuri had certainly known that Viktor remembered his death – hell, he’d shared in Viktor’s nightmares more than once – but to hear Viktor put it like that…</p>
<p>It appeared that Viktor’s words had been just what they needed to finally get through to Chris.  The other skater looked both shocked and heartbroken, his eyes glassy.  “No…no, you can’t- who would- <em>no</em>…”</p>
<p>“Chris, you’re my friend.  I’m telling you the <em>truth</em> for that very reason.  It would have been so much easier to say that I’d been in witness protection and that I couldn’t tell you <em>anything</em>; it would have saved us all of this, but it would have ruined our friendship.  I am the same Viktor Nikiforov you knew, but…dying?  Dying, and then slowly coming back and having to share a body with Yuuri…after all that, I can’t be exactly the same person you knew, and I couldn’t have managed an honest friendship with you if I had to hide those parts of me.”</p>
<p>“<em>Sharing a body with Yuuri</em>?”</p>
<p>“Uh…about that,” Yuuri mumbled.  “Viktor was…honestly, this part is even harder to accept than a dead man coming back to life,” Yuuri said, forcing a chuckle to try to lighten the tension in the air.  “I’m going to need you to just go with this because I don’t understand it, nor does Viktor.  Okay?”</p>
<p>Chris didn’t make any movement for a long minute, then he slowly nodded.  “Okay.  None of this makes sense, so for the next part to make even <em>less</em> sense?  I…I trust Viktor, so I’ll trust the both of you on this.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Viktor told him sincerely.</p>
<p>“Viktor started to come back last year,” Yuuri finally said.  “He…my roommate, Phichit, got me this necklace from a market for my birthday.”  Reaching into his shirt, Yuuri withdrew the diamond-studded star pendant, the stone cracked down the middle.  “I thought it was a nice gesture, so I started wearing it all the time.  At Japanese Nationals, I remember skating the short program, but the free skate is just a big blank in my mind.  I got really nervous right beforehand, so at the time, I assumed it was from stress.  Then at Four Continents, I…don’t remember either program, actually, but I’d never earned an international medal of that level before.  Then at Worlds, again, I don’t remember either program, but I got that small bronze medal?  All of those blackout moments…they were some of the best programs I’d ever skated,” Yuuri said.</p>
<p>“That Worlds free skate was amazing,” Chris agreed.  “I wasn’t there for the others.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  I thought it was strange that I wasn’t remembering my programs, but I chalked it up to stress and…being super focused, I guess.  Celestino and I thought I’d finally figured out how to get into the right frame of mind to leave everything on the ice.”  Yuuri paused, glancing over at Viktor.  The man still looked calm, but there was a hint of tension in his shoulders.  Worry.  “I’d been home a few days, though, when I started hearing voices.”</p>
<p>“Voices?”  Chris cast a curious glance at Viktor.</p>
<p>“Well, <em>a </em>voice.  I started hearing Viktor, which of <em>course</em> I thought was insane because first off, in what world would Viktor Nikiforov ever talk to <em>me</em>?”  Next to him, Viktor scoffed, placing a hand on Yuuri’s thigh and giving it a light squeeze.  “Second, Viktor was already dead at that point.  I…really, I thought I was going crazy.  That’s what I thought was going on until- well, I’m sure you know how persistent Viktor can be.”</p>
<p>Chris rolled his eyes, smiling for the first time since Viktor’s confession.  “It’s probably why he won so many damn medals,” Chris said.</p>
<p>“Exactly.  He kept badgering me, just saying my name over and over, and then one day I…yelled at him.”</p>
<p>Blinking in disbelief, Chris said, “You <em>yelled</em> at a voice in your head?”</p>
<p>Laughing in embarrassment, Yuuri nodded.  “I didn’t know what else to do, and he was…Viktor, honestly, you were a bit obnoxious at the time.”  Viktor pouted, but he didn’t argue.  “And when I yelled at him, Viktor talked <em>back</em>, and that’s when I figured out that I wasn’t going insane…well, not from the hearing voices part, at least.  If Viktor had said my name <em>one more time</em>, though, I might have,” Yuuri teased his boyfriend.</p>
<p>“<em>Yuuri</em>,” Viktor whined.</p>
<p>“Yes.  <em>That</em>.  I heard <em>that </em>in my head every day, over and over again,” Yuuri said with a laugh.</p>
<p>Chris grinned.  “I can see how that would get annoying rather quickly.”</p>
<p>“When I finally started talking to Viktor, though, I found out he’d…”  Yuuri hesitated.  Was it technically cheating if another person skated your programs in your own body?  “Uh, well…we shared a body?” Yuuri said nervously.  “And…sometimes it happened during competitions, and because I was so stressed, I couldn’t remember.”</p>
<p>Chris looked confused at Yuuri’s rambled explanation, so Viktor took pity on him.  “I skated for him a few times – in his own body, of course, so they’re all definitely his own achievements.”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh,” Chris said dubiously, looking far less horrified at the idea of Yuuri’s possibly-accidentally-cheating than Yuuri had expected.</p>
<p>“And once we figured out how to purposely let the other person have control, well, Viktor started modeling jumps and things in my body, and then I’d take over and do it again for real.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t have any trouble jumping in someone else’s body?” Chris asked Viktor.</p>
<p>“Not really,” he admitted.  “It didn’t feel like someone else’s body to me; I could feel what Yuuri felt, how his muscles moved, so by the time I actually needed to step in to help with Yuuri’s anxiety, it was just…<em>my </em>body, really.  Going from that to my <em>real </em>body, though, took a little adjustment.”  He laughed.  “I felt like I spent more time on my ass than my feet that first day on the ice.”</p>
<p>Laughing uproariously, Chris said, “Viktor Nikiforov, gold medalist, slipping on the ice?  I’d have loved to see that.”</p>
<p>“I figured it out pretty quickly!” Viktor said defensively.  “You try skating in two different bodies and see how <em>you </em>fare!”</p>
<p>That sobered Chris up very quickly.  “I hope I never have to.  I hope <em>you</em> never have to again.  How long were you…?”</p>
<p>“My birthday,” Yuuri supplied.  “I got the necklace on my birthday in November, but Viktor didn’t do anything that I noticed until Japanese Nationals at the end of December.  Even then, I didn’t hear anything from him or really know he was there until after Worlds, so that’s almost April.”</p>
<p>“I was confused at first,” Viktor told them.  “I thought it was a dream or some version of the afterlife.  One minute I was bleeding out with a bullet in my chest, the next I was in a strange rink just…watching.”</p>
<p>“And in between?” Chris asked.</p>
<p>“Nothing.  It was like going to sleep – a very painful, very <em>final</em> sleep – and waking up the next morning not remembering any of my dreams.  I’m not sure what the delay was between getting the necklace and me regaining some form of consciousness, but the first day I remember of my new life was a few days after Yuuri’s birthday, and then it took a few more days for me to realize that what I was watching was <em>real</em> and that I was…<em>present</em> in some way.”</p>
<p>“When did you know who you were with?” Yuuri asked.  Viktor had never discussed this portion of his rebirth before, and Yuuri had always wondered.</p>
<p>“I knew who you were the very first day,” Viktor said firmly.  “I could see what you saw, and there was a mirror at the rink, and…well, obviously I knew who you were.  I recognized you from seeing your old programs; who wouldn’t?  And Celestino and Phichit used your name a lot, so that confirmed it.”  Viktor sighed.  “I didn’t think it – <em>you</em> – were <em>real</em>, though.  I thought I was watching you from the afterlife.”</p>
<p>Yuuri grimaced as he considered the amount of confusion Viktor must have felt.  He reached for Viktor’s hand, linking their fingers tightly together.</p>
<p>“November to the end of March…” Chris murmured.  “Then once Yuuri figured out what was going on, how long were you trapped?”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s brow wrinkled with apprehension.  Viktor had repeatedly told him that he didn’t feel <em>trapped </em>with Yuuri, but Yuuri’s mind constantly told him that Viktor was lying to save his feelings.  Taking a deep breath, Yuuri waited for Viktor to confirm his darkest fears.</p>
<p>Instead, Viktor cast Chris a sharp look.  “I wasn’t <em>trapped</em>.  My spirit might have been stuck in Yuuri’s body, but once Yuuri and I figured out how to interact with one another…there were some things I couldn’t do, some things I needed help with, but I also had <em>freedom</em>.  If I wanted to skate, we worked it out.  I wasn’t a <em>prisoner</em>.”</p>
<p>Stunned by Viktor’s harsh tone, Chris looked repentant.  “I- sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”</p>
<p>“Viktor finally got his own body about a week before his birthday,” Yuuri continued quietly.  “So from the time I got the necklace until then, it was a little over a year.”</p>
<p>“It was certainly a productive year, though,” Viktor said more brightly.  “We got you some quads and those triple axel variations.”</p>
<p>Chris hummed in interest.  “That <em>was </em>a lot of new jumps in a short period of time.  Was that from the whole body swapping thing?”</p>
<p>Yuuri nodded slowly, still expecting to get yelled at for cheating somehow.  “Viktor effectively became my second coach – Celestino officially let him work with me once he knew Viktor was, uh, <em>back</em>,” Yuuri said meaningfully.  “During the off season, though, Viktor and I spent a lot of time on the ice swapping back and forth, feeling how my body reacted to different movements and adjusting my jumps based on that.  Most of the time, it was Viktor modeling something so I could feel it, then me working to match his movements and perfecting them once I knew my body was physically capable of something.”</p>
<p>“So <em>that’s </em>how you picked up that variation so fast!” Chris realized.  “That Rippon axel?  <em>Insane</em>!  I don’t know anyone else who can do that, let alone do it as well as yours.  Hell, even <em>Viktor</em> only managed a Tano.”</p>
<p>“That was before,” Viktor reminded him.  “I did the Rippon axel with Yuuri’s body – there’s no reason I can’t do it in my own,” he finished with a wink.</p>
<p>Chris let out a long groan.  “Oh <em>no</em>…you’re going to compete again, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Looking slightly hurt, Viktor gave a single nod.  “I’d been thinking about it.  Do you…not want me to?” he asked carefully.</p>
<p>“I mean, as your friend, I <em>absolutely</em> want to skate against you again.  As your competitor, it was nice to have a chance at gold for once, but…every medal felt tainted,” Chris admitted.</p>
<p>“Winning definitely doesn’t hold the same weight without you on the ice,” Yuuri agreed.</p>
<p>“Exactly,” Chris said.  “And…well, it was nice to get some big wins to my name, but…”  He frowned.  “Those wins didn’t mean anything without you there, especially that world championship gold.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know how they let the competition continue like that,” Yuuri murmured.  “You’d think they’d have…I don’t know, postponed it or something or- or-”  Yuuri let out an exasperated sigh, growing more frustrated the more he spoke.  “<em>Ugh</em>, I don’t know <em>what</em> they should have done, but it should have been more than just a stupid moment of silence when Viktor should have skated his free program and that fucking <em>tribute</em> at the gala.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s eyes closed, his hand squeezing Yuuri’s to the point that it was almost painful.  He took a shaky breath before glancing between Yuuri and Chris.  “I…hadn’t thought to ask what happened after.  I don’t know that I ever wanted to know.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Viktor.  It was downright disrespectful,” Chris told him.</p>
<p>“I hope the ISU is embarrassed now that you’re back,” Yuuri muttered.</p>
<p>“What…”  Viktor paused, biting his lip as he considered how much he wanted to know after all.  “What was the press like?  And…for you, Chris?  You won gold, so…”</p>
<p>Chris sighed.  “It sucked, honestly.  You’d think people would have let us fucking <em>grieve</em>, but no.  After you…<em>well</em>…the very next day, I was being pressured by everyone to win gold.  I was sobbing in the bathroom right before I went onto the ice.  I’m sure if you watched a recording of my program, you could see that my makeup was a mess, but it wasn’t like I cared about that.”  Chris laughed humorlessly.  “As soon as I walked out of that bathroom, I had Josef and my federation breathing down my neck and telling me to skate clean.  You’d think someone would have asked how I was after my best friend <em>died</em>, but <em>no</em>.”</p>
<p>Yuuri frowned, wishing desperately that he had been able to do something at the time, but he and Chris hadn’t interacted much, and Viktor hadn’t returned yet.</p>
<p>“I had a week off after Worlds, and I didn’t leave my apartment once.  There were so many interview requests, all the local media wanting to talk to the first Swiss world champion in almost ten years, but I refused all of them.  I went back to training as soon as my break was over, and Josef was already planning my program layouts for the next season to guarantee me another handful of golds.  All he cared about was that I was finally world champion; he didn’t seem to care about <em>me</em>.”  With a sigh, Chris said, “Things have been a bit…strained since then.  I go to the rink to train and leave as soon as I can.  He’s a good coach for technical things, but if I had the chance to leave for someone else…”</p>
<p>“Would me coming back to skating make things…harder for you?” Viktor asked.</p>
<p>Chris scoffed.  “Hell if I know.  Josef’s always been pushing me; the reason behind it is the only thing that changed.  The fact that you’re alive will probably make him bitter just from the <em>idea</em> that you could make a comeback.”</p>
<p>“Well, we’re used to that,” Yuuri said.  When Chris looked at him curiously, he said, “Georgi Popovich, Viktor’s old training mate.  He’s been…less than welcoming since Viktor’s return.”</p>
<p>Viktor let out a sharp laugh.  “It’s okay, Yuuri.  You can say it: he’s been a downright ass about everything.”  His expression grew more serious, and Viktor finally answered Chris’ earlier question.  “I’d like to compete again next season – maybe not much more past then, but…I think I deserve a little redemption, don’t you?  Murder certainly isn’t the way to end a figure skating career.  Now, tearing a muscle, fracturing a bone – that’s more of a figure skater’s style,” Viktor joked.</p>
<p>Yuuri frowned.  “That’s really not funny, Vitya,” he scolded.  “That’s…that’s literally every skater’s <em>nightmare</em>.”</p>
<p>Wrapping an arm around Yuuri, Viktor leaned his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.  “Oh, звезда моя…I’ve <em>lived</em> every skater’s worst nightmare; a career-ending injury pales in comparison to death.  And besides, I’ll certainly have career opportunities once I finish competing.  We’ve already proved that I’m a <em>very </em>effective coach!”</p>
<p>“Viktor, I’m not sure if you’re a good coach or if you’re just a good coach for <em>me</em>,” Yuuri pointed out.  “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”  Viktor looked confused, his head tilting to the side like Makkachin’s often did when you asked her a question.  “Uh, don’t count your poodles before you adopt them?” Yuuri tried again.</p>
<p>Chris snorted as he watched Viktor’s face light up in understanding at the new idiom.  “Yuuri, it seems that Viktor’s the pretty one in your relationship.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” Viktor protested.  “My Yuuri is <em>gorgeous</em>!”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m not arguing there,” Chris said, casting a teasing look up and down Yuuri’s form with a wink.  “It’s just that I can’t see <em>you</em> being the smart one, Viktor.”</p>
<p>Viktor pouted while Yuuri laughed, placing a comforting kiss on the crest of Viktor’s forehead.  “Oh, Vitya…don’t worry.  I still love you.”</p>
<p>They talked for a while longer, Chris and Viktor joking around like old times as Chris slowly eased into the idea of Viktor having died and – somehow – come back again.  It was comforting for Viktor to have his friend back.  Yuuri watched most of it in contented silence; he was always happy just to sit near Viktor, their hands clasped together so Yuuri knew that he was <em>real </em>and <em>alive</em>, a constant reassurance any time Yuuri began to question it.  He was finally starting to relax.</p>
<p>If only that niggling fear that something was <em>off</em> would finally go away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yuuri competes in the short program at the World Championships.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuuri had one more practice the morning of the short program.  He and Phichit had different practice groups, so it was agreed that Viktor would attend to Yuuri and Celestino would work with Phichit until the competition.</p>
<p>Even before they’d left the hotel, Yuuri felt unusually tense.  He stuck close to Viktor, pressing their arms together on the shuttle and as they walked into the venue.  When he went to warm up, Yuuri kept his back to the wall, always making sure Viktor was at least partially in his view.  He didn’t know <em>why</em> he was acting this way; realistically, there was no reason for it.</p>
<p>It was probably just the idea of having Viktor back at the World Championships, the event where he’d…<em>died</em>, Yuuri forced the word into his thoughts, even if it wasn’t in the same city.  Yuuri considered this as he stretched, which was made more difficult since he was so <em>tense</em>.</p>
<p>Soon enough, it was time for Yuuri to head to the ice for his practice session.  Entering the arena for the first time that day, he took a moment to look around: there were more spectators in the audience than the previous day, and it was looking nearly full despite being the earliest timeslot.  Yuuri followed Viktor, depositing his poodle tissue case on the side of the rink, then going to wait by the entrance to the ice.</p>
<p>“Feeling okay this morning, Yuuri?” Chris asked as he stepped up beside him.</p>
<p>“Eh, I’m feeling a little off, honestly,” Yuuri admitted.  “Probably all the excitement from yesterday.  How about you?  How are you handling…you know…”</p>
<p>Chris shrugged.  “I mean, I don’t think it’s really hit yet.  It’s…insane, to be honest, but I’m just happy to have my friend back.”  The <em>alive</em> was left unsaid.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed, sparing a moment to look down the rink to where Viktor was waiting for him.  A second later, the skaters were allowed onto the ice.  Yuuri took a few laps around the rink while their names were being announced, still not feeling the usual relaxation he got when he was skating.  It normally felt like coming home, but today, his home had been…invaded, almost.</p>
<p>Coming to a stop next to Viktor, Yuuri could feel the hairs on his neck prickling as if someone were staring at him across the rink.  He reached his arms above his head, stretching as he tried to casually turn from left to right.</p>
<p>Chris and his coach were staring at them from across the rink.</p>
<p>Yuuri had hardly interacted with the coach before, but he wasn’t taking his gaze off Yuuri’s movements, even with his own skater pushed away from the boards as he moved to the center of the ice to do his run through.</p>
<p>“Viktor,” Yuuri murmured, letting his arms fall to his side, “don’t make any quick movements.  Look at Chris’ coach.”</p>
<p>Viktor peered over Yuuri’s shoulder, catching Chris’ eye across the rink and offering a big grin and a wave that were eagerly returned just as Chris’ name was announced.  “Have you talked to him before?” Viktor asked, still leaving the smile plastered on his face.</p>
<p>“He congratulated me quickly at the Grand Prix Final, but he was really gruff when he pulled Chris away.  Other than that, no.”</p>
<p>“Huh.  He never used to care about watching Chris’ competitors that closely,” Viktor remarked.</p>
<p>“You don’t think Chris <em>said</em> something to him, do you?” Yuuri asked worriedly.</p>
<p>Both Viktor and Yuuri watched Chris carefully as he began moving to his program music.  “I…I trust Chris,” Viktor said quietly, trying to infuse as much certainty into his voice as he could.  “He always kept my secrets, but…”</p>
<p>Just as the words left Viktor’s mouth, Yuuri was shoved into the boards, the hard slam almost knocking the wind out of him.  Before Yuuri could figure out what had happened, Viktor was already leaning over the boards, his face more furious than Yuuri had ever seen.</p>
<p>“What the <em>fuck</em>, Georgi?!  Trying to injure your competitors now?”  The other man said nothing, only glaring at Viktor and Yuuri over his shoulder.  “Don’t make me call Yakov over here.”</p>
<p>“Calling my <em>master, </em>huh?  I’m not some <em>dog</em>, you idiot,” Georgi hissed, skating away quickly without another word.</p>
<p>“Yuuri?  Are you alright, звезда моя?” Viktor asked worriedly, his eyes searching his boyfriend’s face as his hands ran soothingly up and down Yuuri’s back.</p>
<p>Letting out a shaky breath, Yuuri said, “I think so.  Just…”</p>
<p>Across the rink, Yuuri and Viktor could hear Chris yelling “What the <em>fuck</em>, man?” as Georgi passed too closely during his run through.</p>
<p>“I never thought Georgi would do something like that,” Viktor said with a frown.</p>
<p>Yuuri couldn’t say whether he agreed or not.  He didn’t <em>know </em>Georgi, after all, but something about the whole situation sent a chill down his spine.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>Yuuri spent the middle of the day trying to forget all about that morning.  Viktor insisted a massage might help, so Yuuri hesitantly agreed to let him work on his back – especially after the slam it had taken at the rink.</p>
<p>By the time the short program came around a few hours later, though, Yuuri was only minimally more relaxed.  He watched tensely as the younger Yuri performed in the group before his.  Yuri’s combination was supposed to be on his first quadruple jump, but he fell, causing Yuuri to hiss in sympathy as he watched his friend land heavily on his left thigh, and on the final jumping pass, Yuri stepped out of his quad and couldn’t make up the triple toe loop he’d missed before.  Nevertheless, the base value from his quads held him in third place going into the final group of skaters.  It wasn’t what Yuri would have wanted for his first senior Worlds, but it was far better than how many other skaters performed – and there was always the free skate.</p>
<p>Stepping onto the ice thirty minutes later for his own program, Yuuri tried to leave all the stressors of the last few days’ behind him.  He just needed to focus.  He’d skated his <em>Ghost</em> short program plenty of times before, and with how personal the story of the lover with her dead boyfriend was, Yuuri had become a master at letting himself melt into the character.  He just needed to let go.</p>
<p>First up was the quad toe, which he landed smoothly.  From the corner of his eye, he could just barely see Viktor jumping up and down as his blade successfully met the ice.  Next was the triple axel out of nowhere, seamlessly included into the program: quick turn, up into the jump, landing into twizzles – done.</p>
<p>The music grew quieter.  Now more than ever, Yuuri felt as if his coach had chosen the <em>perfect</em> piece for him – and Celestino finally knew it, too.  Yuuri spun to the gentle hum of the music, the dialog from the musical having been cut to just a few key moments – “Is that you?...I can hear you…I can see you!”  Yuuri drew out of the spin, choosing – just for today, for the first time he could skate in public with Viktor <em>right there</em> – to face in the direction of his love.</p>
<p>The music picked up again, the driving tempo pushing him across the ice for his step sequence.  He was carving his way from one end of the rink to the other, leaving intricate designs on the ice in the wake of his blades, then moving into an Ina Bauer as his step sequence came to a close.</p>
<p>Finally, deep in the second half of the program, Yuuri’s combination: first the quad flip, the sound of his toe pick meeting the ice clearly audible against the softer notes of the music.  He landed it cleanly, pausing for only a second before he picked into the ice again for the triple toe-</p>
<p>And he landed it, but it was tight, his free leg coming out too late and leaving him practically at a standstill for a moment.  It wasn’t <em>bad</em> necessarily, but it would certainly hurt the GOE on the element – nothing he couldn’t make up in the free skate, though, Yuuri hoped.</p>
<p>He pushed the thought of the one imperfection out of his head for the remainder of the program, finding himself in his ending position before he knew it.  He bowed to all four sides of the arena, then turned to leave the ice and meet his coaches where they were waiting for him at the boards.</p>
<p>Where Viktor, <em>living breathing Viktor Nikiforov</em>, was waiting for him.</p>
<p>Yuuri practically ran to him, losing his balance at the last second as he headed too fast for the exit, not able to stop in time – but Viktor was there, <em>really there</em>, and his arms were ready to stop him from meeting the ground.  Viktor gave his waist a gentle squeeze.</p>
<p>“God, Yuuri, you looked so beautiful out there,” Viktor murmured reverently in his ear.  “I can’t believe I almost <em>missed this</em>.”  Giving him one more squeeze and ducking his head to cover a gentle kiss on Yuuri’s cheek, Viktor finally pulled away so they could go wait for Yuuri’s scores.</p>
<p>Even though Viktor’s presence muted Yuuri’s anxieties, it didn’t quell them completely.  The wait for his scores seemed to take forever, and Yuuri started to babble his nerves away.  “I could have done better,” he said to Viktor’s surprise.  “That landing…<em>gah!</em>  It was so choppy.  There was just no flow, and I’d completely understand if the judges-”</p>
<p>Viktor took Yuuri’s hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back, effectively shocking Yuuri into silence.  “You were amazing, звезда моя.  Only the judges can score your program, and I doubt they agree with you.  Whatever it felt like on the ice – Yuuri, it looked beautiful.”</p>
<p>Almost as if the announcer were waiting for Viktor to finish speaking, a voice rang through the arena: “The scores please.”  There was a pause, and Yuuri’s hand tensed in Viktor’s.  “Yuuri Katsuki has earned a score of 105.87 in the short program.  He is currently in second place.”</p>
<p>It was three points less than at Four Continents, but it put him only two points behind Chris.  There was only one more skater left, so Yuuri was guaranteed third or higher going into the free.  He could certainly work with that.</p>
<p>“You’re <em>incredible</em>, my Yuuri,” Viktor told him, draping an arm over Yuuri’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Yuuri felt his cheeks go red as Celestino boisterously agreed with Viktor’s statement.  He tucked his head in the crook of Viktor’s neck so the cameras wouldn’t be able to see his embarrassment.  “It could have been better,” Yuuri muttered in response.</p>
<p>“It was <em>beautiful</em>, Yuuri; that’s all that matters now,” Viktor said.  “Tomorrow is a new day.  I have faith in you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Viktor's safety is threatened for the second - and final - time.  (Also known as: Shit Goes Down.)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite Yuuri’s relatively successful short program, his restlessness continued into the following day.  He was on edge during practice, constantly looking left and right even in the midst of his program run-through.  He knew his movements were stilted and lacked flow, but something felt wrong again – <em>still</em>.</p>
<p>He thought it was the pressure, the knowledge that he was going into the free skate in second place, so close to reigning World Champion Chistophe Giacometti that he had a chance to take the gold medal, but…</p>
<p>And then he knew.</p>
<p>Nearly at the end of his program, he fumbled his quad flip with the Rippon and turned to see both of his coaches’ reactions.  What he saw instead made his blood run cold.</p>
<p>“<em>Viktor!</em>” Yuuri shrieked, his choreography forgotten as he felt a fist clench around his heart.  “<em>Watch out!</em>”</p>
<p>Time seemed to slow down as he saw the strange man behind Viktor brandish a knife from inside his jacket, moving quickly towards the former skater.</p>
<p>And then the man was shoved away, tackled to the ground as the knife was wrestled from his hand.</p>
<p>“What the <em>fuck</em> were you trying to do?  Murder someone in broad daylight?!” Georgi yelled, the man thrashing beneath him as Georgi struggled to pin his wrists to the concrete.</p>
<p>Viktor looked on in shock, his mouth gaping at the man who had tried to murder him and his former teammate coming to his defense.</p>
<p>Yuuri hurried across the ice, moving past the other skaters who had frozen in shock.  He couldn’t hear the screams of the crowd or the last twenty seconds of his program music; he just needed to get to Viktor.</p>
<p>“What the <em>fuck</em>?” Georgi pressed again as a swarm of people descended on the scene.  “Why would you want to kill <em>Viktor</em>?”</p>
<p>The man refused to talk, but his eyes said enough.  He was glaring across the rink, and Yuuri whipped around to see that his eyes were on one lone figure: Chris’ coach.</p>
<p>“Shit,” Yuuri spat, changing direction instantly as he watched the coach sprint toward the nearest exit.  All the staff and security were preoccupied with the armed man beneath Georgi’s knees.  “<em>Somebody stop hi-”</em></p>
<p>But before the words could leave his mouth, the coach was already tackled to the ground, the small boy on his back much stronger than he looked in his oversized tiger sweatshirt.</p>
<p>“How <em>dare</em> you?!” Yuuri could hear screamed across the rink, Yuri’s furious voice echoing through the arena.  “How fucking <em>dare</em> you?!”</p>
<p>Spectators quickly circling Yuri and the coach – whether it was out of curiosity or in a concerted effort to detain the man, Yuuri wasn’t sure.  Jumping the boards without care for his blades as they met the thinly carpeted concrete, Yuuri pressed through the crowd to find the littler Yuri kneeling on either side of Josef Karpisek’s chest while still yelling obscenities at him.</p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t have words to properly express his gratitude to the boy who’d somehow become one of the most important people in his life or the anger he felt towards a man who was supposed to be a beacon of support for the future of figure skating.  Shaking his head in disgust, Yuuri stood silently next to the downed man, glaring at him until additional security entered the arena and forced Yuri off him.</p>
<p>Yuuri pulled the younger Yuri into a tight hug despite the boy’s feeble protests.  “I’m so glad you were here.”</p>
<p>Pushing away from Yuuri’s chest, Yuri shook his head frantically.  “I was just, uh, checking out the competition.”</p>
<p>Yuuri eyed him carefully, noticing the way Yuri refused to make eye contact.  “No,” he said certainly.  “You’ve been worried about something like <em>this</em> happening again just as much as I have.”  Yuri scoffed.  “You don’t have to admit it, but…thank you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t get all sappy on me, Katsuki.  You’ll ruin my bad boy image.”</p>
<p>Ruffling Yuri’s hair, Yuuri smiled, the relief finally sinking in.  “I won’t tell anyone that there’s a kitten inside that sharp tiger exterior.”</p>
<p>The police were called, of course; Viktor gave his statement, lying through his teeth about the years he’d spent in witness protection.  Chris was questioned, but he knew absolutely nothing about his coach’s actions this time or with the previous attempt.</p>
<p>When Yuuri was finally required to give his statement, Viktor was pulled to the side by Georgi.  Yuuri was worried as he saw the other skater approach, but Viktor assured him that he’d remain where Yuuri could see him at all times.</p>
<p>“Are you…” Georgi asked vaguely, glancing Viktor’s body up and down.</p>
<p>“What, hurt?  I’m a little shaken, but I didn’t lose any blood, so it was a good day,” Viktor tried to joke, but it fell flat.  “Thank you for…well.  Today,” Viktor said.</p>
<p>“Anyone would have done it,” Georgi said with a shrug.</p>
<p>“Yes, but…you’ve been ignoring me since I came back.  You’ve been pretty aggressive, even.”</p>
<p>Narrowing his eyes, Georgi asked, “What’s <em>that</em> supposed to mean?”</p>
<p>Viktor glanced over at Yuuri, his boyfriend still thoroughly engrossed in his discussion with the police.  “I thought it was you,” Viktor said bluntly.</p>
<p>Georgi’s eyes widened, his jaw dropping.  “You <em>what</em>?  You thought I tried to <em>kill</em> you?!”</p>
<p>“I didn’t know what to think!” Viktor exclaimed, looking near tears.  “You…when I came back, you…”</p>
<p>“I saw a living <em>ghost</em>, Viktor!  You were supposed to be <em>dead!  </em>How would you have reacted?”</p>
<p>“Even before then, though.”  Viktor shook his head.  “When we were training together…why were you so <em>cold</em> to me?” Viktor begged, his voice laden with the pain of betrayal.  “We’re family…at least, I thought we were.”</p>
<p>“I wanted to win,” Georgi stated.  “It was as simple as that.  I was tired of always being second to the golden boy Viktor Nikiforov, and I wanted to <em>win</em>.  I wanted you to <em>retire</em> so I could have a chance at the national title.  I never wanted you <em>dead</em>!”  The skater sighed.  “Viktor, you said it yourself.  We were family.  <em>You</em> were the golden child.  I was the forgotten bastard, the spare in case you didn’t medal to ensure that Russia was represented on the podium.  I was never the one anyone wanted.”</p>
<p>“Georgi…” Viktor murmured.  “I…I couldn’t change any of that.  You <em>know</em> that.  The Federation does whatever it wants; I just did my best.  That was it.  I never saw you as <em>less </em>than me; in fact, I always admired the way you were able to channel all your passion into your programs.”</p>
<p>“Passion?” Georgi spat.  “Nobody cares about passion when it doesn’t bring a medal.”</p>
<p>“Medals aren’t all that matters, Georgi,” Viktor said softly.  “You think I wouldn’t have given every medal in the world to not-”  Viktor stopped abruptly, realizing that Georgi didn’t know the real story.  He couldn’t say he’d have given every medal to not die, even though it was the truth.</p>
<p>“Given every medal to not get death threats?” Georgi filled in for himself.  “Hah – you had a full career.  Even if you <em>never</em> came back, history would have been kind to you.”  Pausing for a moment, Georgi said more quietly, “And you’re coming back, aren’t you?  Next season?”</p>
<p>Refusing to meet Georgi’s gaze, Viktor said, “I haven’t fully decided yet.”</p>
<p>“You want to, though,” Georgi said certainly.</p>
<p>“…I want to skate again.  I don’t know if I’m ready to face a competition yet – or ever.  The last time I did…and now, after today…”</p>
<p>Both men were quiet.  Finally, Georgi breathed a heavy sigh.  “I may not like you as a competitor and a rival, and I may be brash and, well, <em>jealous</em>, but I wouldn’t try to murder you, Viktor.  And if you do decide to compete again…”  Georgi look away, pursing his lips.  “If you do decide to compete again, I’ll have your back – and Yuuri’s.  Because that’s what family does.”</p>
<p>Tears threatening to fall, Viktor pulled Georgi into a tight hug.  “<em>Thank</em> you,” he said fiercely.</p>
<p>[STAR]</p>
<p>“I didn’t want to say anything to you earlier,” Viktor murmured in the dark of their hotel room that night, the sliver of white light from the city street below the only brightness in the room, “but I…”</p>
<p>Yuuri rolled over, draping his arm over Viktor’s waist and pulling him closer.  “What is it, Vitya?”</p>
<p>“I had this feeling since we first got to the arena that something was <em>wrong</em>.  I thought it was just…I don’t know, the fact that the last time I was at Worlds, I was murdered,” Viktor said, astounding Yuuri yet again with how casually he could talk about his death.  “I thought it was just unease from that.  But after today…that feeling is gone now.”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s eyes roamed Viktor’s face, looking for any hints as to what he might be trying to say.  “Mine, too,” Yuuri whispered.  “Does you think this means…?”</p>
<p>“I think…I’m at peace.  I think we can just <em>live</em> now, звезда моя.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>With Viktor no longer in danger, Yuuri competes in the free program at the World Championships.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was like a weight had been lifted off Yuuri’s shoulders going into the free skate the following day.  He still made sure Viktor was nearby, but he no longer felt like he could lose him at any moment.  Unfortunately, Yuuri’s worry had taken on a new form: Chris.  How does one compete after finding out his coach tried (and succeeded, though most people didn’t know that) to murder his rival and best friend?</p>
<p>The normally bubbly man was somber when they saw him at the arena.  Chris kept to himself, tucking into a corner as best as he could despite Viktor’s efforts to check on him.  It didn’t help that the entire audience was watching Viktor’s every move after yesterday’s attack, even more so than the previous competition days when Viktor had only – <em>only </em>– shockingly come back from the presumed-dead.  Figure skating fans lived for drama, and yet another murder attempt just fueled that fire.</p>
<p>The scrutiny wasn’t helping Yuuri’s nerves, but at least his feelings fell under the category of ‘normal competition anxiety’ and not ‘impending doom.’  Yuuri tried to relax while the first two groups of skaters went, leaving his earbuds in and mentally running through his program over and over as he stretched his muscles and warmed up.</p>
<p>By the time the third group was beginning, Yuuri was starting to get slightly restless.  The Russian Yuri was the second skater to perform from that group, and all Yuuri and Viktor’s attention was directed to the backstage monitor as it changed from the previous skater’s scores to a shot of Yuri and Yakov waiting by the boards.  The young skater had an expression of pure determination as he circled the ice once, then stopped and waited for his music to start.</p>
<p>Yuri was off like a rocket, hitting every musical accent sharply.  His skating had been lacking in passion for too long, and it seemed that he had finally found his fire.  His first jump was a quad toe loop-double toe loop combination.  The quad toe loop hadn’t been giving him too much trouble lately, but after yesterday’s disastrous short program…</p>
<p>But no – Yuri landed the full combination smoothly, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he moved through the light choreography that would set him up for his second jump, the quad salchow he’d fallen on the day before.  He’d spent so much time working on it with Viktor when they were in Saint Petersburg, and all Yuuri wanted was for him to land it cleanly once this season in international competition.</p>
<p>Whatever was fueling Yuri’s program today, it carried through to the salchow, too, and the second quad toe loop that came a few seconds after.  Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief: even if the rest of the program were to have mistakes, Yuri would have the success of landing <em>three</em> clean quads in his free at Worlds, a feat not many skaters could replicate – especially not first year seniors.</p>
<p>Assuming there would be mistakes would be underestimating Yuri, though, and both Yuuri and Viktor knew that when driven enough, Yuri should <em>never </em>be underestimated.  He flew through his step sequence, moving right into a spin afterwards.  He had a triple loop right before the end of the first half of the program, and he successfully landed his remaining combinations and a solo triple axel in the second half.</p>
<p>“That’s going to be a massive score,” Viktor murmured as he watched Yuri take his bows, his determination having given way to disbelief at his own immaculate performance.</p>
<p>Viktor was right: Yuri’s score of 193.42 combined with his short program score of 81.92 blasted him right to the top of the leaderboard, easily overtaking the current second place skater by more than 25 points.  Yuuri couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he watched Yuri’s shocked expression in the kiss and cry.  Yakov said something to him in Russian that he couldn’t understand, but it caused Viktor to chuckle.</p>
<p>“Yakov,” he supplied, “said all Yuri had to do was get his head out of his ass.  He said he was proud of him.  Yakov <em>never</em> would have told <em>me</em> that at my first senior Worlds.”</p>
<p>“A lot has changed,” Yuuri said, “hopefully for the better.”</p>
<p>Yuuri watched as skater after skater went, their scores falling just shy of Yuri’s impressive free skate.  He held the top spot all the way through the rest of his group and until the last three skaters of the final group.</p>
<p>Michele Crispino was up first.  His program was clean, his impressive quads easily landing him in first place.  With two skaters to go, Yuri was still in second with a chance of making the podium, but with the final skaters being Yuuri and Chris, his odds were slim.</p>
<p>Yuuri stood by the boards facing his two coaches, taking a few deep breaths before his final performance of the season.</p>
<p>“You know what to do, Yuuri.  Go leave everything on the ice,” Celestino told him, shaking Yuuri’s hand firmly as he always did.</p>
<p>“Got it, Coach.”</p>
<p>Turning to Viktor, Yuuri clasped both their hands together.  This was it.  If there were ever a moment to have a perfect skate, it was <em>now</em>.  Viktor was here to watch him, alive and safe – finally.</p>
<p>“Stay close to me,” Yuuri murmured, squeezing Viktor’s hands tightly.</p>
<p>“Always, звезда моя.  I’m right here.”</p>
<p>Yuuri nodded, tempted for a brief moment to place a kiss on Viktor’s lips, but he decided the world wasn’t quite ready for <em>that</em> so soon after finding out Viktor was alive (and Yuuri wasn’t ready for that media frenzy, either).  Instead, he settled for placing a soft kiss on the back of Viktor’s hand.</p>
<p>“Don’t ever take your eyes off me.”</p>
<p>Yuuri made his way to the center of the rink, settling into his opening position to wait for the music to start.  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the cracked star necklace resting securely between his skin and the blue costume he wore.</p>
<p>
  <em>This is for Viktor: the skater who inspired me to get here, the coach that showed me how, and the man I love.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>For you, Vitya.</em>
</p>
<p>The first jump was the quad salchow, the jump he’d flubbed at Four Continents.  Viktor had been drilling it with him for the past two months, and they had increased its success rate to the point where Yuuri could probably do it in his sleep.  He landed it cleanly, riding the deep outside edge and moving into a spread eagle.  His next jump was the quad lutz, both arms stretched to the sky amidst the gasps and cheers of the crowd.  Yuuri had a moment to breathe, then he moved from a spin into his easiest combination, the triple axel-triple toe loop.</p>
<p>He was almost done with the first half – Yuuri made eye contact with Viktor as he crossed the rink for his quad toe loop, landing it right in front of his coaches.  He could clearly hear Viktor’s cheers this time, no muffled cellphone connection separating them anymore, and Yuuri couldn’t stop the smile of satisfaction that spread across his face.</p>
<p>This program was no longer about longing; it was no longer Viktor yearning for an unknown love or Yuuri dreaming of a world where he could have Viktor alive and close to him.  Now, the program had morphed from an impossible wish into a promise that his wish would finally – <em>finally</em> – be granted.</p>
<p>Triple axel-half loop-triple flip, the combination exactly timed to the accents of the music.  Yuuri didn’t try to hide his happiness, the gentle contentment of knowing he had Viktor fully in his life.  The following quad flip-double toe loop was performed as clean as Viktor’s combinations ever were, though Viktor never risked them <em>this</em> late in the program.</p>
<p>Yuuri was giving it his all, each movement infused with a single message: <em>For you, Vitya.  I love you.</em></p>
<p>The final jump, the quad flip with both arms above his head, had Yuuri landing facing Viktor across the expanse of the rink.  Yuuri saw Viktor jump in the air, tears in his eyes.</p>
<p><em>For you</em>, Yuuri thought just as those same words he’d recorded months ago filled the rink.</p>
<p>Yuuri did all he could not to race through his final elements – rushing wouldn’t make the music go faster or get him off the ice any sooner, but he desperately longed to be by Viktor’s side again and know that Viktor had gotten his message loud and clear.</p>
<p>As the final note rang through the arena, Yuuri held his pose for three seconds, forcing himself to wait just a moment longer before he raced toward the exit.  Viktor was already waiting at the gate when Yuuri turned around.  Speeding quickly toward the boards, Yuuri flung his arms around Viktor’s shoulders as he barreled into his boyfriend’s chest.</p>
<p>“That was beautiful, my Yuuri.”</p>
<p>Yuuri was lifted off the ice, safely deposited on the carpeted ground by Viktor’s strong arms.  Looking into Viktor’s eyes, their gazes level with Yuuri in his skates and Viktor in his leather business shoes, Yuuri only had one question.  “Did you understand?”</p>
<p>Viktor’s expression softened.  “Of course I did.”  Leaning closer to hug Yuuri again and hide his lips in the junction of Yuuri’s neck and shoulder, Viktor murmured, “I love you, my Yuuri.”</p>
<p>Yuuri didn’t pay much attention to the replays as they waited in the kiss and cry, Celestino’s comforting arm wrapped around his shoulders while Viktor tightly held his hand.  The replays didn’t matter, nor did the competition.  All that mattered to Yuuri was that Viktor had finally seen his <em>Stammi Vicino</em> in all its glory, and he knew how much Yuuri loved him.</p>
<p>“Yuuri Katsuki has earned in the free program…222.58 points for a total competition score of 328.45, a new season’s best.  He is currently in first place.”</p>
<p>Viktor had Yuuri engulfed in a bone-crushing hug even before Yuuri had seen the scores on the screen.  “Yuuri!  That’s a new World Record!”</p>
<p>He was frozen in disbelief for a moment – Yuuri had been so invested in performing <em>for Viktor</em> that he hadn’t considered the possibility of a score that high.</p>
<p>“Nice job, Yuuri!” Celestino agreed, thumping his skater on the back around Viktor’s clinging arms.</p>
<p>“Look at you, my beautiful star,” Viktor murmured.  “Everyone knows how brightly you shine now.”</p>
<p>Having received his scores, Yuuri was supposed to go back to wait with the two other top skaters to watch the last competitor perform, but Yuuri was rooted to the spot.  His joy had been immediately tempered, the events of yesterday overshadowing the success of his free program as the final skater was announced.</p>
<p>Yuuri had never realized that you could watch a person implode.  Without his coach at the boards, Chris had looked lost even before he stepped onto the ice, his face worryingly pale.  He shook his head over and over as he skated slow circles around the center of the rink, almost as if he were trying to shake some terrible image from his mind.  Eventually, though, he settled uneasily into his starting position to wait for his music to start and his nightmare Worlds to be over.</p>
<p>If Yuuri had thought Chris’ body language was concerning, his performance was even more so.  Chris landed the first jump, but it was shaky, and he barely held on.  The second jump had him landing hard on his hip, and from that point, it looked like he limped along through his program.</p>
<p>The audience knew something was wrong, whether it was because they had read the media updates and <em>knew </em>or they could simply see a spectacular skater not performing to his usual standard.  The cheers began from the area of the crowd bearing the most “I love Chris!” signs, but it was soon picked up by the rest of the arena.</p>
<p>Yuuri was glad he had held Viktor back from leaving the rink despite the press that was surely waiting to get their interviews.  Viktor, who had initially been shocked by Chris’ appearance on the ice, was now leaning against the boards and cheering for him at the top of his lungs.  The encouragement seemed to buoy Chris’ spirits, and his final two jumping passes and his step sequence were clean, even if they were still shaky and lacking his usual charisma.</p>
<p>The moment the program was over, it seemed like Chris shattered.  All the energy left him, and he briefly collapsed to his knees before struggling to his feet to wave to the crowd.  Chris fell into Viktor’s arms as soon as he was off the ice, tears already flowing down his cheeks.  “It’s okay,” Yuuri could hear Viktor murmuring.  “It’s okay, Chris.  I’m not upset with you; I promise.  Everything will be okay.”</p>
<p>Chris clung to him all the way to the kiss and cry, Yuuri standing awkwardly to the side until Chris tugged him down on the bench next to him and Viktor as they waited for Chris’ scores.  They were low – embarrassingly low for a skater of Chris’ level if you didn’t know what had happened only the day before.  Those that <em>did</em> know, though, would be awestruck by Chris’ bravery and his ability to put together <em>any</em> kind of program after finding out his coach had tried multiple times to murder his rival.  The tenth-place free skate score put Chris into fifth, well off the podium but a more than respectable finish overall, and it would leave him in a good position for next season’s Grand Prix selection.</p>
<p>Yuuri watched as the screen in front of them flashed to the skaters waiting backstage, Michele in the center with Yuri on his left and rising star Leo de la Iglesia still on his right.  They could see the moment Yuri understood that Chris’ name had gone below his, leaving the teenager in third.  His eyes widened, looking like they might bulge out of his head at any moment.  Yuri looked between Michele and the scores again, Michele nodding encouragingly and grinning as they heard him say, “Yes!  You got bronze!”</p>
<p>Yuuri left Chris in Viktor’s capable hands as he prepared for the medal ceremony, still a little bit surprised at the results himself.  Sure, he had known he <em>could,</em> hypothetically, become the world champion if he skated cleanly like he did in practice – but hypothetically winning gold was <em>very</em> different from <em>actually</em> becoming the world champion.</p>
<p>It seemed that poor Yuri felt the same way – he still looked shellshocked as he stepped onto the lowest step of the podium to wait for the other medalists to join him.</p>
<p>It occurred to Yuuri as the gold medal was draped around his neck, Japan’s national anthem echoing through the arena just moments later, that he had achieved more than he’d ever dreamed of.  It wasn’t how Yuuri would have wanted to win gold.  He would much rather have won with Chris skating cleanly, not giving a poor performance because he was ravaged by guilt and stress after his coach tried to have Viktor murdered (again).  Nevertheless, it was a World title – his first of many, hopefully – and it had always been a dream that had lingered in Yuuri’s mind right next to the name Viktor Nikiforov.</p>
<p>Still, there was one thing he didn’t get to do: he still had yet to skate on the same ice as Viktor, but there was always next season.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A surprise waits for Yuuri at the Worlds gala.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A quick note related to this chapter specifically: The exhibition program in this chapter is set to Iris by Natalie Taylor (originally by the Goo Goo Dolls, but this version is just *chef’s kiss*).  I feel like this epilogue came out vaguely songfic-esque (so I apologize if that's not your thing!), but it's mostly only in the sense that I wanted to point out specific lyrics in the song that made it fit Yuuri and Viktor's situation so well.</p>
<p>And some general notes: This is the longest work I've ever completed, and I'm so glad you all jumped on board with my strange Yuri on Ice/Yugioh idea mashup!  Thank you all for being so patient with me as I edited and posted this story.  Your comments have all been so lovely - if you weren't sure before, I want you to know that every time I get a comment, it Makes. My. Fricking. Day!!!  I really appreciate all the love and support, and I just want to thank you all again! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The exhibition practice was the following day.  The medalists practiced their performances in the morning, then they were called back in the afternoon to practice the larger group numbers.  Viktor was absent for much of the time Yuuri was on the ice, but his anxiety was kept at bay knowing that Viktor was safely back at the hotel discussing training ideas with Yakov.  As such, Yuuri and Yuri spent much of the day together.</p>
<p>It was soon time for the exhibition, although Yuuri still had not seen much of his boyfriend.  The younger Yuri’s performance was in the first half of the gala, and he performed a shockingly edgy program that, when asked about it by Yuuri, was apparently choreographed with Viktor’s help.  There was a brief intermission before the exhibition continued, but there was still no sign of Viktor.</p>
<p>Yuuri would be up soon.  The ladies’ silver medalist had just finished her program, and there was one invited skater that the gala schedule hadn’t specified before the gold medalists would skate.</p>
<p>“Representing Russia…”  Yuuri shared a curious look with Yuri as they watched the monitor.  “…Surprising us all yet again, please welcome three-time World Champion, Viktor Nikiforov!”</p>
<p>Yuuri’s jaw dropped as he watched the spotlight follow Viktor, <em>his Viktor</em>, into the center of the ice.  Before he knew it, Yuuri was racing toward the arena, desperate to see that this was <em>real</em>.  (And really, even after 3 months of having Viktor <em>back</em>, he still questioned if this wasn’t all a marvelous dream.)</p>
<p>But even from the side of the rink – <em>especially </em>from the side of the rink – Yuuri knew with certainty that it was <em>Viktor</em> waiting for the music to start, his body standing proudly on the ice for the whole world to see for the first time in three years.</p>
<p>The first notes of the music seemed as if they physically <em>pulled</em> Viktor from his position, his arms stretching as his head rolled forward, eyes squeezed shut.  Viktor had always enthralled Yuuri, but it was so much more powerful combined with the program music he’d chosen without Yuuri’s knowledge.</p>
<p>“<em>And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you feel me somehow</em>.”</p>
<p>From the very first line, Yuuri could feel tears prickling in his eyes.  They had spent many nights wishing they could be together for <em>real</em> but only getting fleeting moments of contact inside Yuuri’s mind.  For a brief moment, Yuuri thought of the benefits of sharing a body together: he always knew Viktor was safe with him, always there to offer his ideas in different situations, but for all the positives, Yuuri would have given anything in his life just to have Viktor like <em>this</em>.</p>
<p>And miracle beyond miracles…he hadn’t needed to give up anything, yet he’d gained <em>everything.</em></p>
<p>“<em>You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't want to go home right now</em>.”</p>
<p>Viktor had done an incredible job selecting the music for this performance – when he’d choreographed it, Yuuri wasn’t sure, but he could only guess it had been when Viktor was alone in Russia.  As Yuuri watched, he was thrown back to those days when Viktor had seemed content with accepting that his spirit half-life was all he was going to get – and somehow, he’d even seemed <em>happy </em>with it on numerous occasions.  For Yuuri, having Viktor with him had always felt the same way as coming home, even if he constantly felt like it was tainted by having Viktor trapped with him.</p>
<p>As Viktor pulled out of a brief spin and reached for the boards again, Yuuri realized that Viktor had seen him at the edge of the ice and was physically reaching for <em>him </em>now, not just as part of the choreography.  It made Yuuri’s heart ache.  He wished he could run to Viktor, wrap him in his arms and promise him the world, but Viktor wasn’t in any danger; he was on the ice, the ice that Viktor loved and that loved him in return, and it was his performance.  Yuuri <em>needed</em> to see this: if Viktor didn’t have a message for him, he surely would have told him about this program long ago.</p>
<p>As the program progressed, Yuuri decided that there was only one word he could use to describe what he was seeing: <em>yearning</em>.  Viktor had managed to encapsulate all the feelings they’d shared over the past year, all the wishes for life and for things to go back to how they used to be but also stay <em>exactly as they were</em> because Viktor didn’t <em>know</em> Yuuri like that when he was alive.  There was the fear and trepidation of starting a relationship with a spirit in the same body, the worry about skating, the stress of Viktor revealing himself to the world, alive and whole once more-</p>
<p>But above all, the program’s undertones screamed of love and understanding.</p>
<p><em>“I don't want the world to see me, ‘cause I don't think that they'd understand.</em>”</p>
<p>Yuuri felt like he was thrown back to a year ago when he first met Viktor as a spirit, the man seemingly broken in a way the living Viktor Nikiforov had never been.  Broken, insecure…uncertain, just like Yuuri always was, but not what a Living Legend should have been.</p>
<p><em>“…you bleed just to know you're alive</em>.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, Yuuri was remembering Viktor’s confusion and wonder at slicing his hand open on his blade and witnessing his blood again for the first time – a physical confirmation that he was <em>real</em>, something he couldn’t do when he was corporeal in Yuuri’s mind.</p>
<p>Viktor turned on the ice and stretched, <em>reached, </em>hands grabbing empty space in the direction of where Yuuri was watching.  <em>“I just want you to know who I am</em>,” the music was saying, Viktor pleading along with it.</p>
<p><em>I do, though, Viktor</em>, Yuuri swore.<em>  I know </em>exactly <em>who you are, and I’m never leaving you.</em></p>
<p>Viktor fell to his knees on the ice as the music finished, sliding to a stop and staring at the ceiling.  The only movement for a brief moment was the up and down of Viktor’s chest with his heavy breathing.</p>
<p>The crowd was surely cheering; they’d be stupid not to after a performance like that.  Yuuri knew that, but he couldn’t hear it.  He was focused solely on the man at the center of the ice at the World Championships, the Living Legend back where he belonged for the first time since…since <em>that</em>.</p>
<p>Hardly even sparing a thought for what he was about to do, Yuuri ripped off his skate guards, the attendant at the side of the rink automatically opening the door separating him from the ice as if she could feel his desperate need to be with Viktor.  Before Viktor had even picked himself up to bow to the audience, Yuuri was at his side, sliding to his knees and embracing his boyfriend, his inspiration, the one person who truly understood what it meant to be <em>Yuuri</em>.</p>
<p>And Yuuri knew what it meant to be <em>Viktor</em>: the stress, the uncertainty, the nightmares; he’d seen it all, and this was him showing Viktor and the world that he’d stay by Viktor’s side through all of it.</p>
<p>“I…stay on the ice with me, please,” Yuuri begged.  “<em>Please</em>, Vitya.  I can swap my programs so my normal exhibition can be the encore instead, and…you know <em>Stammi Vicino </em>better than I do.  We’ve skated it together dozens of times.  <em>Please</em> skate it with me, Viktor.”</p>
<p>Viktor’s eyes carefully searched Yuuri’s face, but he must have found was he was looking for.  With the warm smile that Yuuri usually only saw in their private moments, Viktor nodded.  “Of course, звезда моя.  I would be honored to skate with you – to skate with the new world champion.”</p>
<p>Viktor pushed himself to his feet, tugging Yuuri up after him.  He squeezed Yuuri’s hand once before quickly gliding back to the side of the rink, and Yuuri watched as Viktor spoke hushed words with the attendant.  She nodded easily, reaching for her walkie-talkie as Viktor returned to Yuuri’s side.</p>
<p>“All set, звезда моя,” he said with a grin much more reminiscent of his podium smile.</p>
<p>Taking a lap around the ice together to warm up, the arena was filled with the announcer’s voice a minute later: “Please welcome to the ice the gold medalist in the men’s event – Yuuri Katsuki, joined by reigning Olympic Champion, Viktor Nikiforov!”</p>
<p>“Stay close to me, Vitya,” Yuuri murmured as they settled into their opening positions, the star pendant with its fractured diamond warm between his costume and his skin.</p>
<p>“Always, звезда моя,” Viktor swore.</p>
<p>[END]</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for sticking with me through this fic!  I hope you enjoyed it! &lt;3</p>
<p>(Side note...this is a complete story and I currently have no intention of writing a sequel, but I did leave the end a tiny bit open because in my brain, Viktor goes on make a comeback the following season.  If I ever get the inspiration to write another long fic in this universe, that's what it would be!)</p>
        </blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29284638">Light</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/piades/pseuds/piades">piades</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
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